It 


r   J*   v    ¥• 


[^LIBRARY     | 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

CALIFORNIA 

SAN  DIEGO    J 


-' 


The  Red  Poocber 


The  Red  Poocher 


BY 


"Through   the  Turf  Smoke" 

"  In  Chimney  Corner*" 

Etc. 


1903 

FUNK  tf  WAGNALLS  COMPANY 

30  LAFAYETTE    PLACE 

NEW    YORK 


15370 


Copyright,  1903,  by 
FUNK.  &  WAGNALLS  COMPANY 


Published:  September,  1903 


CONTENTS 


i 

WHY  T6MAS  DUBH  WALKED,    ...        9 
II 

MlSTHER   KlLGAR   OF  ATHLONE,  .  .         37 

III 
MlSTHER   MCCRAN    OF   BELFAST,  .  .         67 

IV 

MlSTHER  O'MARA  FROM  THE  COUNTY 

MAITH, 101 


WHY  T6MAS  DUBH  WALKED 


THE     RED     POOCHER 


TOM  AS 's  good  woman  reached  to  each 
of  us  a  fine  bowl  of  cream  with  an  iron 
spoon  in  it  of  the  size  a  hungry  man 
likes. 

"  Musha,  craythurs,  it's  starriv'd  with 
the  hunger  yous  must  be.  Fill  the  far- 
Ian 's  first  out  i'  that  pot,  an'  the  minnit 
yous  is  done,  I'll  have  yous  brewed  such 
a  dhrap  o'  tay  as  '11  rouse  the  hearts  in 
yous." 

Neither  Tdmas  Dubh  nor  I  needed 
much  persuasion,  other  than  that  given 
by  crying  stomachs,  to  attack  it  with 

hearty  good- will.     Before  the  fire  we  sat, 
ii 


THE   RED   POOCHER 

and  we  drew  the  pot  between  us,  and, 
getting  our  legs  about  it,  plunged  in  our 
spoons  with  small  delay,  ladling  up  the 
stirabout  as  right  hungry  men  can,  sous- 
ing it  in  the  cream,  and  speeding  it  on 
again  to  our  watering  mouths ;  for  when 
you've  been  on  the  hills  from  early  morn- 
ing till  late  at  night,  and  eaten  but  a  few 
mouthfuls  of  oat-bread  and  butter  in  the 
interim,  what  with  the  walking,  the  run- 
ning, the  spieling,  the  sliding,  what  with 
the  whiff  of  the  heather,  and  with  the 
feurgortach  (or  hungry-grass)  you  must 
have  tramped  over,  I'll  warrant,  tho  you 
have  been  the  most  dismal  dyspeptic  was 
ever  on  a  doctor's  books,  you'll  bring 
back  an  appetite  with  an  edge  like  the 
east  wind.  Tdmas  and  I  fetched  back 
just  such  appetites,  and  very  little  else, 
for  I  was  (putting  it  mildly)  an  indiffer- 
ent shot,  and  tried  Tdmas's  temper 
sorely. 

12 


WHY  TOMAS   DUBH    WALKED 

As  Tdmas  had  put  it  in  anticipation,  a 
fine  pot  of  stirabout  with  a  bowl  of  yel- 
low cream  proved  "  no  mad  dog  to  him  " 
nor  yet  to  me.  Neither  of  us  had  time 
for  a  word.  "  Ivery  time  ye  spaik  it's  a 
mouthful  lost,"  was  Tdmas's  maxim. 
We  dug  our  ways  through  the  pot  from 
either  side,  till  only  the  thinnest  film  sepa- 
rated our  "  claims,"  when  Tdmas  rung  his 
spoon  in  the  empty  bowl  and  said,  "  God 
be  thankit!"  on  which  I,  too,  feeling  a 
sensation  of  satisfaction  permeating  the 
far-lands,  threw  my  spoon  to  the  bottom 
of  the  pot  with  a  "  Thanks  be  to  God, 
and  Amen ! " 

And  now  Ellen  was  pouring  out  for  us 
two  large  bowls  of  tea  that  was  thick  and 
as  dark  as  a  blind  window. 

"  Do  ye  like  your  tay  sthrong,  Jaimie  ? " 
she  asked  me. 

"  Well,"  I  said,  shaking  my  head  doubt- 
fully at  the  black  flood  she  was  pouring 
13 


THE  RED   POOCHER 

into  the  bowl,  "  my  mother  doesn't  com- 
monly make  it  so  sthrong." 

"An*  there  ye  are  now,"  she  said. 
"  That's  how  docthors  differ.  Tdmas 
here  wouldn't  tell  his  name  for  tay  if  ye 
didn't  make  it  as  sthrong  for  him  as  the 
shafts  of  a  cart." 

"  Why,  I  should  think  it  a  mortial  bad 
plan  to  make  a  habit  of  takin'  your  tay 
like  that,  Tdmas  Dubh,"  I  said. 

"  Tay,"  Tdmas  said  oracularly,  as  he 
gazed  at  it  with  a  blissful  expression  in 
his  eye — "  tay,"  he  said, "  is  niver  no  good 
— an'  I'd  as  soon  ye'd  give  me  so  much 
dish-water  to  dhrink — if  it's  not  made 
that  a  duck  might  walk  on  it." 

I  had  grave  doubts  about  this,  but  as 
Ellen  had  the  bowls  now  creamed,  and 
the  piles  of  oat-bread  and  stack  of  butter 
at  our  elbows,  I  couldn't  afford  time  to 
dispute  it. 

Tdmas  and  I  attacked  the  pile  and  the 


WHY  TtfMAS  DUBH   WALKED 

stack  and  the  bowls  of  tea  so  bravely,  and 
sustained  the  attack  so  spiritedly,  that  it 
was  little  wonder  Ellen  expressed  the 
opinion  that  she  "wouldn't  like  to  be 
the  aitin'-house  would  do  a  big  thrade 
with  many  such  customers."  We  didn't 
stop  to  bandy  compliments  with  her. 
And  Tdmas  only  passed  two  remarks 
during  the  demolition.  He  said, "  Ma'am, 
if  what  your  bread  wants  in  hardness  was 
borrowed  from  your  butter,  there 'd  be  a 
big  'mendment  on  the  two  of  them  "  ;  and 
later  he  said  reflectively :  "  The  back  o' 
my  han'  an'  the  sole  o'  my  fut  to  you, 
Meenavalla ! "  I  gave  him  an  inquisitive 
look,  hereupon,  while  in  the  act  of  having 
what  Tdmas  would  call  a  good  "  shlug " 
out  of  my  bowl ;  but  Tdmas  was  too  in- 
tent upon  his  business  to  mind  my  look. 
When  Tdmas  felt  both  hunger  and  thirst 
allayed,  and  that,  over  and  above,  he  had 
taken  in  something  for  positive  pleasure, 
15 


THE   RED   POOCHER 

he  pushed  his  empty  bowl  from  him, 
blessed  him  with  all  the  fervor  of  a  man 
satisfied  with  himself,  Ellen,  and  the 
whole  world,  and  winding  up  with  another 
"  God  be  thankit ! "  turned  to  the  fire, 
drew  out  his  short  brown  pipe,  and  be- 
gan to  fill  it;  and  I,  feeling  within  that 
blissful  sensation  which  pervades  the 
breast  of  one  who  hungered  and  has  fed 
heartily,  did  in  every  particular  like- 
wise. 

"  What  put  me  in  mind  of  it,"  Tdmas 
said,  suddenly,  from  out  of  the  reek  of 
smoke  the  little  brown  pipe  was  raising, 
"  was  your  firm'." 

I  blew  a  spy-hole  through  my  own  halo 
of  smoke,  and  tried  to  see  Tdmas  on  the 
other  side  of  the  fire. 

"  Put  ye  in  mind  of  what? " 

"  Meenavalla.  An'  the  way  of  it  was, 
your  firin'  put  me  in  mind  of  the  Red 

Poocher's." 

16 


WHY  T6MAS   DUBH   WALKED 

I  didn't  quite  see  the  connection,  but 
I  asked:  "  An'  what  sort  of  shot  was  the 
Red  Poocher?" 

"  The  best  from  h —  to  Guinealand." 

"  Yes? "  I  said,  modesty  and  vainglory 
struggling  within  me. 

"An'  then  ye  bein'  the  worst  shot 
atween  the  same  two  dis-Mm^,  ye  nat- 
urally put  me  in  mind  of  him." 

Now  I  did  not,  and  do  not,  claim  to  be 
an  expert  marksman,  but  I  confess  the 
comparison,  drawn  as  it  was  antitheti- 
cally, hurt  my  feelings. 

So  I  smoked  on  as  silently  as  the 
asthmatic  gully  I  pulled  would  permit. 
And  Tdmas,  beyond  the  fire,  proved 
himself  my  fellow — even  his  pipe  noisily 
confessed  the  same  weakness. 

"  Av  coorse,"  Tdmas  said,  after  a  cou- 
ple of  minutes,  "  ye  know  I  was  game- 
keeper at  Meenavalla  wanst ! " 

"  I  did." 

2  17 


THE  RED   POOCHER 

"  Did  ye  know  what  fetched  me  out  of 
it?" 

"  It  must  'a  been  that  the  owner  con- 
sidhered  Tdmas  Dubh  had  too  good  a 
reputation,  and  was  too  honest,  for  to  be 
wasted  in  Meenavalla." 

"  I  was  five  years  in  Meenavalla " — 
Tdmas  sat  upon  a  stool  so  low  that  his 
knees  stuck  up  on  a  level  with  his  breast ; 
he  rested  his  elbows  on  his  knees  and  his 
chin  in  his  hands,  and  told  his  story  to 
the  fire — "five  years,  an'  contented  in 
throth  I  was  with  it;  for  meself  an'  Ellen 
was  snug  an'  warm,  plenty  to  ait,  an'  not 
much  to  do,  an'  a  fire  all  the  winther 
would  roast  a  quadhroopit.  But  the 
fourth  saison  there  was  an  English  gin- 
tleman  from  a  place  they  call  Hartfoord 
had  the  shootin'  i'  the  place  taken.  But 
lo  an'  behould  ye !  the  first  week  in  Au- 
gust the  weather  was  mortial  fine,  an'  I 

was  tempted  to  slip  aff  over  to  me  moth- 
18 


WHY  TOMAS   DUBH   WALKED 

er's  country  to  help  her  win  the  grain  o' 
hay,  for  she  was  in  the  black  need  o'  help 
—without  a  manbody  nixt  or  near  her 
wee  place.  Well,  over  to  her  to  Cashe- 
laragan,  I  slipt  for  the  week,  an'  put  as 
much  of  her  wee  grain  o'  hay  through 
me  fingers  as  I  could  do  in  the  time ;  an' 
then  back  again.  An'  the  first  news  met 
me  slap  in  the  face  when  I  come  back 
was,  that  I  wasn't  away  the  second  night 
till  the  poochers  was  on  the  place,  an' 
night  an'  nightly  they  had  shot  it  for  the 
remaindher  o'  the  week ! 

"  The  curse  o'  the  crows  light  on  the 
same  poochers,  an'  a  hard  bed  to  them ! 
But  when  the  English  jintleman  come, 
it's  the  poor  shootin',  Lord  knows,  he 
had ;  an'  the  sweetest  of  tempers  wasn't 
his — small  blame,  indeed,  to  the  man 
anondher  the  circumstances.  He  sayed 
he  might  as  well  have  taken  the  elephant- 
shootin'  as  the  grouse-shootin'  of  Meena- 
19 


THE   RED   POOCHER 

valla.  He  wanted  to  know  was  there 
e'er  a  chance  of  a  loyon  or  a  bear,  or  any 
other  baste  o'  prey  on  the  place,  he  might 
get  the  chance  of  a  shot  at.  I,  of  coorse, 
toul'  him  there  was  no  loy-ons  in  this 
part  o'  the  wurrl' ;  an'  I  sayed  there  was 
no  bear  barrin'  wan,  an'  if  he  shot  that 
wan  he  was  liable  to  be  hung  for 
shuicide — " 

"Are  ye  sure  ye  sayed  that,  Tdmas? " 
"  Sartint  sure — but  it  was  when  I  got 
the  rascal's  back  turned.  But  I  did  tell 
him  to  his  face  wan  thing.  It  was  of  a 
day  he  had  the  heart  o'  me  bruck  with 
the  chirmiri*  an'  charmin\  an'  the  blas- 
phamin'  he  carried  on  with.  Siz  I  till 
him,  'Yer  honor,' siz  I,  'there's  wan  way, 
an'  if  we  could  work  it  we'd  get  fright- 
some  big  bags  o'  game,  an'  no  mistake.' 
'What  way's  that? 'siz  he,  comin' till  a 
stan'  still.  '  If  ye  can  manage  to  put  me 

on  sich  a  way,'  siz  he,  Til  make  it  well 
20 


WHY  T6MAS  DUBH   WALKED 

worth  your  while.'  'Well,  I'm  mortial 
thankful  to  your  honor,'  siz  I,  back  again 
till  him,  'an'  the  way's  simple  enough— 
if  it  only  worked.'  'D —  -  ye,' siz  he, 
lettin'  a  terrin'  ouns  (oath)  out  of  him, 
'an'  out  with  it  at  wanst,  till  we  hear  what 
it's  lake.'  'Well,  it's  this,  yer  honor,'  siz 
I.  'If  ye  could  somehow  or  other  man- 
age to  fetch  down  a  grouse  with  ivery 
growl  ye  give,  an'  a  snipe  with  ivery 
curse,  we'd  have  mighty  full  bags  ere 
we'd  be  long  on  the  hill — do  ye  see? ' 

"  An'  faith  he  did  see  it,  an'  it's  some 
poor  body's  prayer  I  must  'a  had  about 
me  at  the  time  kept  him  from  puttin' 
the  contents  of  his  gun  intil  me  sowl. 
An'  I  then  larnt  what  Peadhar  Mor  the 
tailyer  (God  rest  him !)  used  often  tell  me 
— that  a  madman  an'  an  Englishman  is 
two  shouldn't  be  joked  with. 

"Anyhow,  this  lad  took  himself  off  in 

a  fortnight  with  a  bigger  load  of  sin  (I'm 
21 


THE   RED   POOCHER 

thinkin)  than  snipes,  an'  he  wrote  a 
square  patch  of  a  complaint  to  Belfast,  to 
Misther  McCran,  the  owner  o'  the  place, 
an'  Mr.  McCran  he  give  me  the  divil  to 
ait  over  the  business.  He  went  within 
an  ace  of  makin' me  cut  me  stick;  an' 
threatened  that  if  iver  he'd  hear  of  a  sin- 
gle brace  of  birds  bein'  pooched  off  the 
place  again,  I'd  go,  as  sure  as  me  name 
was  Tdmas. 

"  Well,  glory  be  to  goodness,  when  I 
come  by  a  good  thing  I  know  it;  an' 
small  blame  to  me,  I  like  to  stick  till  it ; 
so  I  sayed  to  meself,  'Tdmas  Dubh,'  siz 
I,  'plaise  the  Lord  ye '11  sleep  with  wan 
eye  open  an'  the  other  niver  closed  for 
the  saisons  to  come,  an'  then  ye '11  be  as 
wideawake  as  who's-the-other ;  an' from 
this  out,  the  poocher  who  puts  salt  on 
your  tail  'ill  be  as  cliver  a  man  as  yerself.' 

"  Well  an'  good,  the  nixt  saison  come 

round,  an'  an  Englishman  again  tuk  the 
22 


WHY  TOMAS   DUBH   WALKED 

shootin'  of  Meenavalla.  He  was  a  Mis- 
ther  Bullock  (Lord  save  us!  what  on- 
christian  names  them  English  big  bugs 
do  have),  an'  he  owned  wan  o'  the  gran- 
nest  houses,  I  b'lieve,  from  head  to  fut  of 
London  sthreet.  Well,  howsomedivir, 
this  Misther  Bullock  had  took  the  shoot- 
in'  this  year,  and  when  Misther  McCran 
informed  me  of  this,  he  toul'  me  also  if 
there  was  as  much  as  a  mark  of  a  pooch- 
er's  heel  found  on  all  the  place  I  would 
get  laive  to  go  thravellin'  for  me  health." 
"  An'  for  your  appetite,  eh,  Tdmas?  " 
"  On  or  about  the  twelfth  of  A 'gust  I 
gets  a  letther  from  Misther  Bullock  him- 
self, to  tell  me  he  had  another  shootin' 
taken  down  the  country  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  Glenveigh,  an'  that  himself  an'  a 
frien'  he  was  fetchin'  with  him  would 
spend  a  week  on  the  Glenveigh  moun- 
tain first,  an'  then  they'd  dhrive  up 
through  the  Glenties  way  on  his  buggy, 
23 


THE  RED   POOCHER 

an'  take  the  next  week  out  of  Meena- 
valla;  an'  for  me  to  be  prepared  for  them 
on  or  close  afther  the  twentieth.  An'  he 
sayed  it  was  toul'  him  the  Ian'  had  been 
pooched  last  year,  till  the  shootin'  of  it 
wasn't  worth  the  powdher,  an'  to  remem- 
ber that  he  wasn't  goin'  to  stan'  no  sich 
nonsense ;  if  there  was  a  feather  touched 
on  the  place  he  would  shue  me  masther 
for  all  he  was  worth.  'Make  your  mind 
aisy,  me  boy,'  siz  I,  when  I  read  his  let- 
ther,  'about  that.  The  poocher  who 
wings  a  bird  on  Meenavalla  atween  now 
an'  the  twentieth,  'ill  be  a  conshumin'ly 
cliver  fellow,  who's  in  the  habit  o'  gettin' 
up  afore  he  goes  to  bed  at  all.'  And 
very  good  care  I  had  been  takin'  for  the 
three  weeks  gone  that  no  poocher  would 
look  at  it  across  a  march-ditch ;  an'  bet- 
ther  care  still,  if  betther  could  be,  I  was 
goin'  to  take  that  gun's  iron  (barrin'  me 

own)  wouldn't  be  levelled  over  it  for  the 
24 


WHY  T6MAS  DUBH   WALKED 

nixt  eight  days.  For  I  was  on  it  a'  most 
day  an'  night,  an'  the  tail  of  a  poocher's 
coat  niver  wanst  showed ;  an'  I  was  de- 
tarmined  it  should  be  so  till  the  Big  Fel- 
la himself  would  step  on  the  grass. 

"  It  was  just  three  evenin's  afther  the 
letther  come  that  I  was  out  as  usual  on 
the  hill,  an'  I  was  havin'  a  couple  of 
puffs  at  the  grouse  on  me  own  account, 
when  I  noticed  a  thrap  dhrivin'  along  the 
road  below;  an'  half-an-hour  afther,  I 
sees  Ellen  on  top  o'  the  Skreg  above  the 
house,  waiin'  her  shawl  to  me.  'Sure- 
ly,' siz  I  to  meself,  'it's  not  the  Bullock 
arrived  ? '  But  when  I  reached  Ellen, 
that  same  was  the  identical  news  she  had 
for  me.  An'  I'll  not  deny  that  I  give  a 
hearty  good  curse.  '  He  seen  me  shoot- 
in',  Ellen,  as  he  come  along  the  road,  con- 
shumin'  till  him ! '  But  I  hurried  down 
to  the  house.  Wan  jintleman  was  cool- 
in'  the  pony  (a  purty  wan)  up  an'  down 
25 


THE  RED   POOCHER 

the  road;  an'  the  other,  who  was  my 
man,  Ellen  toul'  me,  was  in  the  house. 
I  put  the  bouldest  face  I  could  on  me, 
and  marched  in  as  undaunted  as  if  I'd 
been  only  sayin'  me  prayers  on  the  hill. 
But  I  knew  be  the  scowl  iv  him  I  was  in 
for  it.  '  Are  you  Gallagher  ? '  siz  he,  quite 
short,  an'  without  raichin'  his  han'  to 
me.  'Yis,  your  honor,'  siz  I,  removin' 
me  hat,  'Tdmas  Dubh  Gallagher — an' 
you're  mighty  welcome  to  these  parts,' 
raichin'  him  me  han',  and  givin'  him  a 
mortial  sight  warmer  shake  hands  than, 
I  seen,  he  wanted.  'Was  them  poochers 
I  seen  on  the  hill,  Gallagher,  as  I  come 
along  ? '  siz  he — tho  mighty  fine  he  knew 
who  the  poocher  was  at  the  same  time. 
So,  all  things  considered,  I  thought  it 
best  to  tell  the  thruth,  an'  shame  the 
divil.  'No,  sir,'  siz  I,  'it  was  meself.' 
'  What ! '  siz  he,  'have  you  turned  poocher 

as  well  as  presarver?     Upon  my  word,  a 
26 


WHY  T(3MAS   DUBH   WALKED 

purty  fellow  you  are !  a  purty  gamekeep- 
er! What  did  ye  fetch  down? '  'Noth- 
in',  plaise  your  honor,'  siz  I ;  for  nothin' 
it  was.  'Well,  plaise  goodness/  siz  he, 
Til  not  sleep  in  me  bed  the  night  till  I 
report  ye  to  your  masther,  an'  I'm  now 
givin'  ye  warnin'  of  it.'  I  pleaded  with 
him  as  best  I  could,  and  showed  him  the 
outs  an'  ins  of  the  thing,  but  I  might  as 
well  have  been  spaikin'  Spanish  to  pavin'- 
stones:  he  was  bound  to  report  me,  an' 
report  me  he  would;  for  it  had  always 
been  his  opinion,  he  sayed,  that  afther 
all  the  cry-out  again'  poochers,  there  was 
no  poochers  worse  than  the  gamekeepers 
themselves — an'  in  the  intherests  of  his 
brother-sportsmen  all  over  the  kingdom, 
he  sayed,  more  nor  in  his  own  intherests, 
he'd  have  to  report  it.  'I  see,' he  says, 
'ye  got  my  letther,'  tossin'  it  from  him 
onto  the  table,  for  the  letther  had  been 

lying  in  the  windy  from  we  got  it ;  an'  he 
27 


THE   RED   POOCHER 

had  it  in  his  han'  when  I  come  in.  'I 
wasn't  to  have  come,  as  I  sayed  there,  till 
the  twentieth;  but  my  sweetest  curse 
upon  all  poochers — not  forgettin'  all 
gamekeepers — my  sweetest  curse  on  the 
whole  assortment  o'  them,  my  Glenveigh 
place  when  I  come  on  it  was  either 
pooched  or  gamekeeped,  or  both,  an'  I 
wouldn't  have  got  a  hamper  of  birds  off 
it  in  a  month.  I  have  promised  a  great 
number  of  presents  of  fowls  to  my  f rien's 
in  England — promised  to  have  them  with 
them  in  the  first  week,  an'  it's  lookin' 
purty  like  as  if  my  promise  is  goin'  to  be 
bruck  for  the  first  time  in  me  life — an' 
all  through  poochers  an'  gamekeepers, 
d — n  them !  Be  ready,'  siz  he,  afther  he 
had  foamed  an'  fumed  up  an'  down  the 
house,  an'  cursed  curses  that  I  wondhered 
didn't  burn  a  hole  in  the  roof  gettin'  out 
— 'be  ready,'  siz  he,  'afore  the  screek  o' 

day  the  morra  mornin',  an'  be  out  with 
28 


WHY  TdMAS   DUBH  WALKED 

us  till  I  see  what  we  can  find  in  the  nixt 
couple  o'  days.  In  the  manetime,  go  out 
an'  house  that  pony,  an'  give  him  the 
best  care  Meenavalla  can  afford;  your 
wife  'ill  make  a  little  shake-down  for  our- 
selves, an 'give  us  a  bite  of  anything  aita- 
ble,  for  our  bellies  is  biddin'  our  backs 
good-morra  with  the  fair  dint  o'  the  hun- 
ger.' 

'  The  first  sthray  light  wasn't  on  the 
hill  in  the  mornin'  till  the  three  of  us 
was  there  afore  it,  an'  us  bangin'  away 
for  all  we  were  worth.  The  two  jintle- 
men  got  intil  betther  humor  when  they 
found  how  plentiful  the  birds  was,  an' 
they  fetchin'  them  down  like  hailstones. 
But,  behould  ye,  I  used  always  feel  more 
or  less  pride  in  meself  as  bein'  a  purty 
dandy  shot,  but  I  can  tell  ye  them  two 
jintlemen  very  soon  knocked  the  consait 
out  o'  me ;  the  second  jintleman  was  a 

pleasure  to  see  shootin ' ;  but  to  see  the 
29 


THE   RED   POOCHER 

Big  Fella  himself  puffin'  powdher  was 
a  sight  for  sore  eyes.  That  man,  sir, 
could  kill  round  a  corner.  Goin'  on  forty 
years,  now,  I've  been  handlin'  a  gun,  an' 
have  come  in  the  way  of  a  good  many 
sportsmen  that  knew  what  end  of  the 
gun  the  shot  come  out  of  as  well  as 
who's-the-nixt ;  but  that  man's  aiqual  or 
anything  comin'  within  an  ass's  roar  of  it 
I  nivir  yet  did  meet. 

"  Anyhow,  to  make  a  long  story  short, 
we  dhropped  the  birds  so  fast — or,  I 
should  say,  he  dhropped  them  so  fast,  for 
tho  we  lowered  a  smart  number  enough 
for  or'nary  Christians,  it  was  nothin'  at 
all  in  comparishment  with  what  he  did— 
so  fast  did  they  dhrop  that  again'  the  third 
night  he  had  the  place  purty  lonesome 
enough  of  game.  He  had  got  all  nicely 
hampered  an'  packed  off,  an'  he  started, 
himself  an'  his  companion,  off  in  their 

buggy  nixt   mornin',  sayin'  he'd    have 
30 


WHY  T6MAS   DUBH   WALKED 

another  thry  at  Glenveigh  again,  an'  be 
back  to  Meenavalla  wanst  more  in  some- 
what betther  nor  a  week's  time.  Tho 
both  of  them  graised  me  fist  like  jintle- 
men  afore  they  went,  he  didn't  seem  to 
relent  a  bit  about  the  report  to  Misther 
McCran — it  was  his  solemn  duty,  he 
sayed,  an'  he  couldn't  overlook  it. 

"  It  was  only  the  second  evenin'  afther, 
I  was  comin'  down  aff  the  hill,  an'  just 
as  I  had  got  onto  the  road,  an'  I  carry  in', 
hung  over  me  gun,  a  brace  of  snipe,  I 
managed,  by  good  managementship,  to 
scrape  up,  when  roun'  the  bend  o'  the 
road,  afore  I  could  say  'God  bliss  me!' 
comes  a  thrap  tearin',  with  two  jintlemen 
on  it.  'Bad  luck  to  yez! '  siz  I,  'an'  God 
forgive  me  for  cursin','  dhroppin',  at  the 
same  time,  both  gun  and  birds,  for  I  was 
sartint  sure  it  was  the  chaps  right  back 
on  me.  But,  in  another  minute,  I  seen 
I  was  mistaken,  for  naither  o'  them  had 


THE   RED   POOCHER 

the  red  whiskers  o'  my  man:  so  I  lifted 
me  belongings,  an'  went  on  whistlin'. 
When  the  thrap  overtuk  me,  it  pulls  up, 
an'  without  as  much  as  Good-morra, 
Good-evenin',  or  'The  devil  take  ye,'  the 
biggest-lookin'  bug  o'  the  two  snaps  me 
up  with,  '  How  did  you  get  them  birds, 
me  man  ? ' 

'By  goin'  for  them,'  siz  I.  I  knew  it 
was  an  ondaicent  way  to  answer  a  sthran- 
ger,  but  the  boul'ness  of  him  went  again' 
me  grain.  'Who  are  you,  sir? '  was  the 
next  imperencehe  outs  with.  'I'm  a  son 
o'  me  mother's,'  siz  I,  'an'  maybe  ye 
know  me  betther  now.'  'Maybe,'  says 
he,  'ye '11  be  so  kind  as  to  tell  me  where 
Black  Thomas  Gallagher,  the  gamekeep- 
er, lives  in  these  parts.'  'Sarra  be  aff 
me,'  siz  I  to  meself,  'what's  this,  or  who 
is  he  this,  I've  been  saucin'?'  'Yis,'  I 
siz  to  him,  '  I  think  I  can  show  ye  that, 

bekase  I'm  the  identical  man  himself.' 
32 


WHY  T6MAS  DUBH   WALKED 

'Oh,  indeed,'  siz  he,  pullin'  himself  to- 
gether, 'are  ye,  indeed?  I  didn't  think 
when  I  took  Meenavalla  for  the  saison 
that  I  had  such  a  witty  gamekeeper  intil 
the  bargain.  I'm  a  lucky  man,  throth,' 
siz  he,  an'  his  naybour  laughed  hearty.  I 
turned  square  on  the  road,  an'  I  looks  at 
him.  'Ye 're  anondher  a  great  mistake,' 
siz  I ;  'the  shootin'  o'  this  place  has  been 
taken  by  Misther  Bullock  of  London.' 
'Exactly,'  siz  he,  'Misther  Bullock  of 
London  (which  is  me)  has  got  the  privi- 
lege oipayin  for  the  shootin';  and  his 
gamekeeper,  by  all  signs,  is  to  get  the  fun 
an'  the  snipes.'  ' Come,  now,'  siz  I, ' none 
o'  your  thricks  upon  thravellers.  Misther 
Bullock  o'  London  was  here  the  begin- 
nin'  o'  the  week,  an'  shot  the  Ian'  as  clean 
as  the  day  it  was  cree-aited,  an'  there's 
not  a  jintleman  from  wan  end  to  the 
other  of  London  sthreet  but  maybe  is  at 
the  present  spaikin'  sinkin'  his  tooth  in 
3  33 


THE  RED   POOCHER 

wan  o'the  grouse,  an'  wishin'  to  the  Lord 
he  was  ten  times  hungrier.' 

"  But  mo  bhron  !  the  face  of  that  jin- 
tleman  (an*  his  naybour,  too)  dhrew  on 
himself,  when  I  sayed  this,  was  somethin' 
f rightsome  to  behould ;  an'  may  I  niver 
die  in  sin  if  the  gun  didn't  shake  in  me 
han'.  He  thundhered  out  of  him  sich  an 
oath  as  would  be  a  godsend  to  a  quarry- 
man  for  splittin'  rocks,  an'- 

" Ellen,  a  ckara"  said  Tdmas,  "  I  mis- 
doubt me  this  fire  would  be  out  long  ago 
if  ye  hadn't  the  doore  boulted.  Throw  a 
grain  iv  thurf  an'  another  lump  of  fir  on 
it,  a  thaisger 

"Well,  Tdmas?" 

"Well,  Jaimie?" 

"  I  want  to  hear  it  out.  Was  that 
Bullock?" 

"  Conshumin'  till  him,  iv  coorse  it  was." 

"An*  him  shot  the  place?  The  red 
fellow?" 

34 


WHY  TOMAS   DUBH   WALKED 

"  Was  the  Red  Poocher,  av  course,  who 
was  afther  sthrippin'  Bullock's  Glenveigh 
shootin'  as  bare  as  a  bald  head  just  afore 
Bullock  come  on  it." 

"An'  then  what  happened  to  you, 
Tdmas?" 

"  I  walked — an'  I'm  here  now." 


35 


MISTHER     KILGAR     OF 
ATHLONE 


II 

MISTHER     KILGAR     OF 
ATHLONE 

TOMAS  and  I  were  lying  on  the  brow 
of  Crogh-na-gart-free  after  punishing  a 
substantial  lunch  of  well-buttered  oat- 
bread,  and  were  gazing  on  the  valley  of 
the  Ainey-beg  away  far  below,  and  fol- 
lowing with  our  eye  its  pleasant  saunter- 
ing till  it  went  out  and  lost  itself  in 
Donegal  Bay.  The  day  was  one  of  the 
pleasantest  that  dawned  over  Donegal 
that  season.  The  soft  breath  that  came 
up  from  the  ocean  tempered  to  us  the 
rays  of  the  high-riding  sun.  A  restful 
feeling  possessed  us,  and  a  meditative 
mood.  We  had  been  more  than  mod- 
erately successful  that  morning;  three 
39 


THE  RED   POOCHER 

hares  and  several  braces  of  birds  stretched 
their  dead  lengths  by  our  side.  We  had 
lit  our  pipes,  and  up  through  the  clear 
thin  air  Tdmas  and  I  were  sending  such 
smoke  wreaths  as  might  well  rivet  the 
attention  of  any  still-hunting  peelers 
within  two  leagues'  distance,  suggesting 
to  them  a  still-house  in  full  swing. 

"  Tdmas,"  I  said  suddenly,  "  ye  niver 
heerd  anything  whatsomivir  of  the  Red 
Poocher  again?" 

Tdmas  slowly  turned  his  red  eyes  on 
me,  and  fixed  me  for  a  minute  with  quiet 
disdain.  Then  he  lifted  his  gaze  off  me, 
and  contemplated  the  Glen  Ainey  again. 
I  knew  well  there  was  much  at  the  back 
of  that  look.  Except  at  rare  times  Tdmas 
was  an  uncommunicative  animal,  and  to 
some  people  always  uncommunicative. 
I,  however,  from  careful  study  of  his 
moods,  had  got  the  knack  of  temporarily 

unlocking  his  mental  stores,  the  which 
40 


MISTHER  KILGAR   OF   ATHLONE 

could  only  be  effected,  too,  by  seizing  the 
psychological  moment. 

"  Tdmas,"  I  said  again,  with  a  ring  of 
determined  persistence,  "  ye  niver  heerd 
nothin'  more  of  the  Red  Poocher?" 

"  That's  the  second  time  ye've  give  me 
that  slice  of  information.  Sure  I'm  not 
deef." 

"  Well,  I  say,  did  ye  iver  hear  anything 
of  him  af ther  he  pooched  Meenavalla  and 
got  you  walked  out  iv  yer  situation?  " 

"  Oh !  Then  it's  only  lookin'  for  news 
ye  are?  I  thought  it  was  givin'  news." 

"Ye're  as  short,  Tdmas,  as  a  hare's 
scut." 

"  Thanky,  thanky.  Fair  exchange  is 
no  robbery — you  give  me  abuse,  an'  I 
give  you  a  story.  If  a  man  wants  to  ax  a 
thing,  I  like  him  to  ax  it  sthraight  out. 
Come!  shouldher  yer  gun,"  said  Tdmas, 
rising,  "an'  take  houl'  of  them  hares. 
It's  time  we  wirr  thrampin'." 


THE  RED   POOCHER 

I  had,  after  all,  trifled  with  the  golden 
moment,  and  it  was  gone.  There  was 
nothing  for  it  now  but  to  do  as  I  was 
directed. 

Altho  Tdmas  and  I  weren't  so  suc- 
cessful in  starting  game  during  the  re- 
mainder of  the  day  as  we  had  been  in  the 
morning,  the  whole  day's  sport  would 
have  averaged  well,  even  if  we  had  not  (as 
fortunately  was  the  case)  drawn  a  broc  ere 
we  left  the  hills.  Tdmas  had  with  him 
his  terrier  Grip,  and  from  a  huddled  heap 
of  rocks  lying  on  the  narrow  passage  of 
land  between  Loch  Nam-breac-buidhe 
and  Loch  Na-carriga,  Grip  drew  a  broc. 
When  both  of  them  came  tumbling  out 
of  the  hole  they  were  locked  in  each  oth- 
er's hold.  They  fought  fiercely  and  fu- 
riously, howled  and  tore,  tumbled  and 
rolled — Grip  uppermost  now,  the  broc 
again;  and  anon  both  gained  purchase 

with  their  hind  legs  on  the  ground,  to  be 
42 


MISTHER   KILGAR   OF  ATHLONE 

in  another  moment  swirling  and  whirling 
over  and  over  each  other.  The  broc 
showed  gallant  fight,  and  when,  after 
twenty  minutes'  wicked  work,  he  suc- 
cumbed, poor  Grip  limped  from  him  with 
as  bloody,  tattered,  battered,  and  dis- 
reputable a  look  as  ever  well-mauled  cor- 
ner boy  bore  out  of  a  street  row.  Tdmas's 
heart  was  proud  for  Grip's  pluck,  and  he 
smiled  benignantly  as  he  patted  her  on 
the  back,  and  tried  to  smooth  down  her 
much-tossed  long  locks.  And  when  he 
reached  home  he  would  not  sit  down  to 
supper  till  he  had  washed  and  dressed 
Grip's  wounds — for  she  had  as  many  as 
if  she  had  been  through  Napoleon's  wars 
— and  carefully  combed  her,  fed  her,  and 
bedded  her  by  the  hearth.  When  we 
had  finished  supper  Grip  was  stretched 
asleep,  and,  as  any  old  soldier  might,  was 
evidently  in  dreams  fighting  her  battle 
over  again,  for  she  occasionally  emitted 
43 


THE   RED   POOCHER 

vicious  little  snarls  and  yelps  that  prob- 
ably marked  crucial  moments  in  the  fight. 

Tdmas  smiled  a  smile  of  inward  satis- 
faction, turning  a  satisfied  look  upon  her 
at  each  of  these  manifestations  of  the  in- 
domitable little  spirit  within  her.  But 
not  so  Ellen.  Ellen  gave  vent  to  her 
dissatisfaction,  abusing  Tdmas  in  good 
set  terms  as  an  "  onnatural  Christian." 

"  How  dar'  ye,  Tdmas,"  she  said,  "  go 
for  to  stan'  by  an'  see  the  poor  dog  that 
knew  no  betther  ill-usin'  itself  an'  get- 
ting' ill-used  in  that  shape!  How  dar' 
ye,  Tdmas ! " 

Tdmas  was  now  smoking  and  calmly 
contemplating  the  fire.  Tdmas  had  a 
maxim  which  he  frequently  repeated  to 
me,  and  on  which  he  now  (as  always) 
acted — "  When  a  woman  starts  in  to  aise 
her  mind  on  ye,  don't  spaik  back." 

"  How  dar'  ye,  I  say,  Tdmas ! " 

"  Yis,"  said  Tdmas,  addressing  the  fire, 
44 


MISTHER   KILGAR   OF  ATHLONE 

apparently,  "  I  did  hear  tell  of  him  again 
— an'  again." 

I  was  a  bit  mystified ;  Ellen  quite  lost 
the  thread  of  her  abuse  for  the  moment. 

"What  is  the  amadan  bletherin' 
about?"  she  queried. 

"  Ah ! "  said  I ;  "is  it  the  Red  Poocher, 
Tdmas?" 

"  Yis,  it's  the  Red  Poocher,  Tdmas," 
he  said,  querulously  mimicking  my  tone. 
"  Wasn't  it  him  ye  axed  me  about? " 

"  Oh  yis,  oh  yis ! "  I  said,  with  anticipa- 
tive  pleasure,  and  hitched  forward  my 
stool. 

Ellen  looked  disdainfully  from  one  to 
the  other  of  us. 

"  Och,  to  the  dickens  with  the  pair  o' 
yez  an'  the  Red  Poocher — all  in  a 
bunch ! " 

Said  Tdmas: 

"  When  Misther  McCran  sent  me  pack- 
in'  from  Meenavalla  he  engaged  a  new 
45 


THE   RED   POOCHER 

gamekeeper,  wan  Pether  Magroarty,  from 
the  head  of  the  Aineymore — Peadhar 
Kittagh  he  was  known  be,  bekase  iv 
bein'  left-handed.  Misther  McCran  he 
wrote  down  Peadhar  Kittagh  a  letther  as 
big  as  a  bed-sheet  full  of  insthructions  an' 
diractions,  warnin's  an'  thraits,  an'  the 
beginnin',  endin',  an'  middle  iv  the  let- 
ther was  Red  Poocher,  Red  Poocher, 
Red  Poocher.  An'  Peadhar  Kittagh  he 
wrote  McCran  back  that  he'd  be  a  gray 
Poocher  when  he'd  take  him  in.  He 
toul'  him  he  might  sleep  with  an  aisy 
conscience  when  he'd  engaged  Peadhar 
Kittagh  for  his  gamekeeper;  an'  for  the 
time  to  come  Meenavalla  would  be 
less  trouble  to  him  than  his  own  kail- 
garden. 

"  Too  sure,  too  loose.  For  ten  months 
afther  a  corbie  couldn't  fly  over  Meena- 
valla that  Peadhar  Kittagh  wouldn't  come 

to  his  door  an'  curse  it;  an'  there  wasn't 
46 


MISTHER   KILGAR   OF  ATHLONE 

as  much  as  the  tail  of  a  yalla-yorlin'  lost 
off  the  Ian'. 

"Well  an'  good.  A  gentleman  from 
Oxfoord,  in  England,  wan  Misther  Hed- 
ger,  took  the  shootin'  this  year;  an'  the 
evenin'  he  come  on  the  groun'  me  boul' 
Peadhar  wouldn't  let  him  say  God  bliss 
ye!  till  he  started  puttin'  him  through 
his  catechism  to  prove  that  he  was  him- 
self an'  no  other.  Misther  Hedger  was 
inclined  to  be  purty  mad  with  his  game- 
keeper showin'  so  much  cheek ;  but  when 
Peadhar  explained  matthers  till  him  he 
seen  through  it,  an'  proved  to  Peadhar's 
satisfaction  that  he  was  himself,  an' 
thanked  Peadhar,  too,  right  heartily  for 
bein'  so  cah'tious. 

'  Has  there  been  any  poochin'  on  the 
Ian'  for  so  far?  Tell  the  truth,  Magroar- 
ty,'  siz  he. 

' '  Not  the  limb  of  a  lark  lost,  yer  honor,' 
siz  Peadhar. 

47 


THE  RED   POOCHER 

'Then,plaise  Providence, 'siz  he, 'it'll 
be  so  till  I  clane  the  Ian'  meself.  Has 
there  been  any  word  at  all,  at  all,  of  the 
Red  Poocher  showin'  up  in  the  neigh- 
borhood ? '  siz  he. 

"  'The  Red  Poocher,'  says  Peadhar,  'is 
takin'  good  care  to  keep  the  brea'th  iv 
the  County  Donegal  atween  him  an'  us. 
I  have  heerd  tell,  no  later  ago  than 
We'n'sday,  that  he's  at  work  up  the  In- 
nishowen  way,  forty  mile  from  here.' 

"'An','  says  Hedger,  'I  judge  the 
same  lad's  wisdom  be  the  number  iv 
miles  he  keeps  off  me.  I'm  a  man,  Ma- 
groarty,'siz  he,  'that  Stan's  no  nonsense.' 
'An',  not  intendin'  no  disrespect,'  siz 
Peadhar,  'you  an'  I  ir  frien's,  so.' 

"  But,  behoul'  ye,  Hedger  he  hadn't  got 
right  saited  himself  when  in  to  them 
steps  Tuathal  Me  Hugh,  the  Binbane 
gamekeeper,  an'  he  as  noisy  as  a  whole 

duck-house,    cryin'  out    that    the    Red 
48 


MISTHER  KILGAR   OF  ATHLONE 

Poocher  was  on  his  hill  afore  br'ak  o' 
day  that  very  mornin' ! 

"  He  was  an  Irishman  from  Athlone, 
a  Misther  Kilgar,  who  had  taken  the  Bin- 
bane  shootin'.  He  had  arrived  just  the 
night  afore,  Tuathal  explained,  an'  takin' 
a  sthroll  up  the  hill  afore  brekwist  with 
only  himself  an'  his  gun,  he  was  speedily 
back  with  the  word  to  Tuathal  that  there 
wirr  two  scoundhrils  roun'  the  elbow  iv 
the  hill  pepperin'  away.  They  run  lake 
the  Roe  wather  the  first  gleek  of  him 
they  caught,  but  tho  he  was  purty  far  off 
he  could  make  out  that  the  biggest  rascal 
iv  the  two  had  hair  an'  whiskers  as  red 
as  blazes.  They  could  scarcely  fetch 
themselves  to  credit  Tuathal,  only  Mis- 
ther Kilgar  himself  come  steppin'  in  at 
this  with  his  gun  upon  his  shoulder;  an', 
'Upon  my  word,' siz  he,  when  he'd 
inthroduced  himself  to  Misther  Hedger 
-'upon  my  word,'  siz  he,  'I'm  sorry  to 
4  49 


THE   RED   POOCHER 

say  Tuathal  only  tells  ye  God's  thruth. 
An'  be  all  marks  an'  tokens,  too,  as  far 
as  I  can  gather,'  siz  he,  'I'm  more  than 
sartint  it's  no  other  nor  the  Red  Poocher 
an'  his  collaigue.  But,  forewarned  is 
forearmed.  I'm  prepared  for  him  now; 
an'  I'm  blest  if  he  comes  on  my  shootin' 
again,  an'  I  can  get  within  range  iv  'im, 
I'll  give  him  as  much  lead  as  'ill  go  good 
ways  on  makin'  a  coffin  for  'im.  May 
the  divil  take  'im,  body  an'  bones! ' 

"'Amen! '  siz  Tuathal  McHugh. 

"  'I  didn't  know,  Misther  Hedger,'  siz 
Kilgar,  'that  you'd  arrived  yerself;  but 
McHugh  here,  an'  meself,  an'  me  own 
man,  wirr  on  the  hill  all  day,  an'  as  we 
wirr  over  in  the  neighborhood  iv  your 
shootin',  I  thought  it  best,'  siz  he,  'to 
dhrop  in  here  an'  give  Magroarty  warn- 
in'  that  the  bla'guard's  about,  so  as  to 
put  him  on  his  keepinV 

'Mighty  good  iv  ye,  an'  I'm  iver  so 
50 


MISTHER   KILGAR   OF   ATHLONE 

much  obligated  to  ye,  I'm  sure,'siz  Hed- 
ger,  'for  yer  thought.  We  wirr  just  dis- 
coorsin'  on  the  very  same  subject  iv  the 
Red  Poocher,  an'  Magroarty  was  makin' 
my  min'  aisy  regardin'  'im' — informin' 
me  that  he  was  playin'  himself  in  the 
exthreme  end  iv  the  county,  when  your 
gamekeeper  here  come  in  with  the  news 
that  he  was  nearer  us  nor  we  bargined 
for.  Well,  all  I  say,'  siz  Hedger,  siz  he, 
'is,  he'd  betther  thravel  round  my  moor 
any  time  the  divil  puts  it  in  his  head  to 
thravel  across  it,  or  I'm  grievously  afeerd 
I'll  be  apt  to  forget,  on  sight  iv  'im,  that 
there's  no  special  allowance  for  shootin' 
poochers  in  me  game  license — a  short- 
comin'  that  should  be  rimedied.' 

"  'By  my  faith,'  siz  Kilgar,  'an'  if  he 
comes  on  me,  he'll  be  apt  to  go  off  me 
again  in  betther  style  nor  he's  used  to — 
with  four  men  carryin'  'im,  an'  the  doore 
supplied  at  me  own  expense,  gratis.' 


THE  RED   POOCHER 

"  'Anyhow,'  siz  Kilgar,  'we'll  prove 
ourselves  purty  big  amadans,  an'  laugh- 
in'-stocks  for  the  counthry,  if  we  let  him 
do  us.  So  far  as  I  hear,  he  would  do  the 
divil  himself  to  his  teeth,  an'  pooch  hell 
with  his  tongue  in  his  cheek;  so  we'll 
have  to  keep  a  watch  night  an'  day.  For 
the  comin'  week  he '11  have  moonlight,  an' 
it  '11  be  ojus  the  desthruction  he'll  make 
among  the  birds.  We'll  have  to  work 
into  aich  other's  han's,  Misther  Hedger,' 
siz  he,  'an'  put  a  watch  on  the  moors  both 
be  night  an'  day.  The  wan  watch  'ill  do 
for  both  our  grounds.' 

"  Very  well.  Kilgar  arranged — as  he 
had  himself,  his  man,  an'  his  gamekeep- 
er, an'  Misther  Hedger  himself,  his  own 
man,  an'  his  gamekeeper — he  arranged 
that  it  would  be  mighty  pleasant  for  them 
to  work  together  in  means ;  Misther  Hed- 
ger to  come  over  for  the  nixt  day,  an' 

both  iv  them   shoot  Kilgar's  hills;   an' 
52 


MISTHER   KILGAR   OF  ATHLONE 

then  Kilgar  go  over  with  Hedger  the  day 
afther  an'  shoot  Hedger's  moor.  It  was 
agreed  to  that  Hedger's  own  man  was 
to  do  senthry-go  on  the  hills  every  night, 
while  Kilgar,  as  a  set-off  again'  that,  give 
his  man  an'  his  pony  an'  thrap  to  carry 
the  hampers  aich  day  to  the  railway  sta- 
tion at  Sthranorlar,  a  matther  iv  twinty 
mile. 

"  This  Kilgar  he  was  a  long-headed 
chap,  an'  no  manner  iv  doubt,  an'  he  so 
arranged  that  a  cat  couldn't  wash  her 
whiskers  on  the  two  lan's,  from  the  wan 
en'  iv  them  to  the  other,  without  the 
whole  party  knowin'  it  afore  her  mouth 
was  closed  again;  an'  Hedger  himself 
give  in  that  if  the  Red  Poocher  could 
outwit  Kilgar  he'd  desarve  the  heighth 
iv  credit  for  it,  an'  he  himself  would  be 
the  first  to  give  him  it,  he  didn't  care  if 
it  was  his  own  Ian'  was  done,  an'  not  so 
much  as  a  tail  left  on  it. 
53 


THE   RED   POOCHER 

'This  chat,'  siz  Kilgar,  siz  he,  'about 
poochers  an'  poochin',  an'  the  cliverness 
iv  poochers,  is,  the  wan  half  iv  it,  blamed 
humbug,  an'  the  t'other  half  lies.  Iv 
coorse  I'll  admit  that  if  a  man's  inclined 
to  pooch,  an'  he  finds  he  has  to  dail  with 
an  ediot  or  an  ass  who'll  let  'im  pooch, 
he  will  pooch,  an'  small  blame  to  'im ; 
he'd  show  himself  as  big  an  ass  as  the 
man  he  had  to  dail  with  if  he  didn't 
pooch.  This  county  iv  Donegal,  too,  has 
'arned  itself  the  dickens'  own  name  as  a 
poochin'  county.  But — an'  it's  with  all 
due  respect  I  say  it,  Misther  Hedger— 
it's  the  know-nothin'  amadans  of  English- 
men who  take  the  shootin's  here  that  is 
the  cause  iv  all  the  poochin'.' 

'I  agree  with  ye  there,' siz  Hedger. 
'I  heartily  agree  with  ye  there.  That 
same  has  ever  been  me  own  opinion. 
Every  cock  can  crow  on  its  own  du'ghill. 
When  my  counthrymen's  at  home  they 
54 


MISTHER   KILGAR   OF  ATHLONE 

think  themselves  fit  to  make  fools  iv  the 
wurrl'  an'  its  wife;  but  I've  seen  few  iv 
them  put  their  fut  on  an  Irish  moor  that 
a  chile  couldn't  bewildher  them  at  wanst, 
an' laugh  in  its  sleeve  at  them.  I've  seen 
them  time  an'  again  pay  out  gowpenfuls 
iv  money  for  a  moor,  an'  then  poochers 
that  was  branded  as  blockheads  by  all 
that  knew  them,  step  in,  an'  undher  their 
very  noses  wipe  the  moor  as  clane  as  an 
emp'y  male-kist ;  the  men  that  paid  for 
it  congratulatin'  themselves  that  the 
knaves  hadn't  thricked  them  into  carryin' 
the  bags  for  them.  Such  men,  Misther 
Kilgar,  disarve  to  be  humbugged  an' 
chaited — an'  may  they  long  be  so,  say  I, 
till  they  1'arn  to  fetch  a  grain  or  two 
more  common-sense  an'  a  poun'  or  two 
less  self-consait  with  them,  when  they 
label  their  portmantieys  "  Irelan. '  That's 
what  I  say,'  siz  Hedger. 
"  'An'  there  ye  say  right,'  siz  Kilgar. 
55 


THE  RED   POOCHER 

'Now  I've  been  rentin'  moors  an  shoot- 
in'  moors  as  long  as  I  have — an'  I'm  sar- 
tint  I've  done  so  for  a  good  score  iv  sais- 
ons — an'  I  can  say  with  cool  confidence 
that  till  yistherday  mornin'  a  poocher 
niver  scatthered  a  feather  on  a  shoo  tin' 
belongin'  to  me  yet.  Bekase  why,  they 
knew  their  man ;  they  knew,  in  the  first 
place,  it  wasn't  an  Englishman  they  had 
to  dail  with ;  an'  they  knew,  in  the  nixt 
place,  that  it  was  ME — ME ;  there  isn't 
a  poocher  from  en'  to  win'  iv  Irelan'  but 
knows  Kilgar.' 

" '  Ha !  ha !'  siz  Hedger,  siz  he, '  I  think 
the  divil  himself  when  he  was  a  hayro 
wouldn't  venture  to  pooch  on  your  pre- 
sarves.' 

"  '  Well,  at  laist,'  siz  Kilgar,  'he 
didn't  ;  that's  why  there's  a  divil 
still.' 

"  'Ha!  ha!  ha!'  siz  Hedger,  siz  he. 
'I'm  thinkin' the  Red  Poocher  is  pros- 
56 


MISTHER   KILGAR  OF  ATHLONE 

pectin'  for  a  new  huntin'-groun',  now  he 
finds  you  in  these  parts.' 

" '  I'm  thinkin','  siz  Kilgar,  'he  is.  An' 
throth  an'  if  he  had  waited  another  five 
minutes  on  me  yistherday  mornin',  I'd 
'a'  sent  him  to  a  new  huntin'-groun' 
be  a  mortial  fast  express,  with  his  fare 
paid.' 

"  An  right  enough,  the  Red  Poocher 
did  seem  purty  slow  about  showin'  up 
either  on  Meenavalla  or  on  Binbane — 
Kilgar's  place.  Kilgar  an'  Hedger,  with 
Peadhar  Kittagh  an'  Tuathal  Me  Hugh, 
was  out  on  the  two  places  day  about.  It 
was  lovely  weather — just  much  like  the 
sort  me  an' you  had  the  day — an' the  gin- 
tlemen  did  enjoy  themselves,  without  no 
manner  i'  doubt.  For  the  game  was 
purty  plenty,  an  they  tumbled  them  at 
the  rate  of  a  shower  i'  hail,  an'  packed  an' 
sent  off  well-filled  hampers  be  the  dozen 
to  their  frien's  in  all  corners  i'  the  king- 
57 


THE  RED   POOCHER 

dom,  Kilgar's  man,  Thady,  as  he  was 
called,  bein'  kept  as  busy  as  a  nailer 
thrinnlin'  [trundling]  them  off  away  to 
Sthranorlar,  day  an'  daily.  Hedger,  he 
was  in  the  very  best  i'  good-humor,  an' 
Kilgar  was  noways  behind.  They  shot 
both  i'  them  lake  sodgers  all  day,  an' 
dhrunk  lake  beggars  half  i'  the  night ;  for 
Peadhar  Kittagh  was  as  fine  a  han'  at 
runnin'  a  still  as  e'er  another  in  the  par- 
ish; an'  he'd  as  soon  think  iv  laivin'  his 
house  without  a  dhrap  i'  dew  as  without 
holy  wather.  Then  when  the  two  gintle- 
men  would  get  hearty  at  the  potteen  it 
was  as  good  as  a  play,  I'm  toul',  to  hear 
them  cursin'  the  Red  Poocher,  an'  makin' 
their  brags  what  they'd  do  if  he'd  dar' 
wipe  his  boots  on  their  heather,  an  'laugh- 
in'  at  the  numskulls  that  let  him  play  his 
pranks  on  them,  aich  i'  them  thryin'  to 
outdo  the  other  in  their  defiance  iv  the 

Red   Poocher,  the  wurrl',  an'  the  divil. 
58 


MISTHER  KILGAR   OF  ATHLONE 

Then  when  Kilgar,  somewhere  afore 
mornin',  would  take  it  in  his  head  to  go 
home  with  Tuathal  an'  get  an  hour's 
sleep,  Hedger  he'd  laive  him  up  the 
moor;  an'  when  the  two  wrould  part 
they'd  continue  firm'  salutes  afther  wan 
another  till  they'd  get  out  iv  hearin'. 
They  had  the  whole  counthry-side  in 
a  tarrible  state  iv  alarm  for  the  week 
these  doin's  lasted;  people  wirr  afeerd 
to  go  to  bed  at  night,  for  they  couldn't 
tell  what  the  norra  damage  these  fel- 
las with  their  firearms  would  take  it 
into  their  cracked  noddles  to  do  some 
night  they'd  have  a  worse  fit  on  than 
usual;  an'  no  daicent  man  knew,  goin' 
to  bed  in  the  heighth  iv  health,  but 
he'd  fin'  himself  risin'  a  corp  in  the 
mornin'. 

"  A  week,  I  sayed,  these  doin's  lasted, 
an'  then,  like  a  capsized  car,  come  to  a 
middlin'  sudden  stop.    An'  it  was  this 
59 


THE   RED   POOCHER 

way:  On  Sunday  night  Peadhar  put  the 
potteen  on  the  boord  for  them  as  usual, 
an'  afther  sayin'  the  litany  on  the  Red 
Poocher  they  sung  song  an'  song  about, 
till  a  couple  iv  hours  afore  sunrise,  when 
they  had  the  usual  noisy  partin'  on  the 
hill,  an'  Hedger  he  returned  to  have  a 
wee  winkiv  sleep,  an' be  over  to  Binbane 
brave  an'  early  for  another  big  day's 
shootin':  on  Sathurday  they  had  been 
shootin'  Meenavalla,  so  Monday  was  due 
to  the  other.  In  the  mornin',  then, 
Peadhar  Kittagh  managed,  by  manes  iv 
plenty  i'  good  diggin'  in  the  ribs,  to  get 
the  Englishman  up  betimes  an'  feed  him, 
when  the  both  i'  them  shouldhered  their 
guns  an'  made  thracks  for  their  neighbor, 
laivin'  Hedger's  man,  who'd  been,  iv 
coorse,  doin'  senthry-go  all  night  on  the 
moor  an'  the  hill,  in  bed  an'  snorin'  lake 
five  carters. 

"They  expected   to   meet    Kilgar  an' 
60 


MISTHER   KILGAR   OF  ATHLONE 

Tuathal  on  the  hill ;  but  there  wasn't  any 
sign  iv  them;  so  Hedger  an'  Peadhar 
Kittagh  headed  on  down  to'rst  Tua- 
thal's. 

"Be  mae  faith,'  siz  Hedger,  'if,  as  you 
say,  I  slep'  as  heavy  as  a  hog  this  morn- 
in',  Kilgar  must  'a'  slep  'lake  an  elephant. 
Ay,  there's  the  pair  i'  them  now,'  siz  he, 
'without  the  house.  Whistle  on  them 
an'  see  what  the  divil's  keepin'  them.' 
So  Peadhar  whistled. 

"'That's  Tuathal,' siz  Peadhar;  'but 
Kilgar  hasn't  shown  out  yet.  That  oth- 
er's some  sthranger  or  other.' 

"  Hedger  an'  Peadhar  started  a  couple 
i'  birds  here,  had  a  bang  at  them,  an' 
fetched  down  wan.  Then  they  thripped 
it  down  to  the  house. 

"Mae  frien','  siz  the  sthrange  man  was 
along  with  Tuathal,  steppin'  forrid,  'par- 
don mae  inquirin'  yer  name.' 

"'My  name,'  siz  he,  'is  Hedger — Mis- 
61 


THE  RED   POOCHER 

ther  Hedger  iv  Oxfoord,  England. 
You're  a  frien'  to  Kilgar,  I  suppose? 
What  the  divil's  the  raison  he  isn't  out 
afore  this  ? ' 

'  Yis,  I'm  a  frien'  iv  Kilgar's— a  very 
particular  frien',  in  fact.  Misther  Kil- 
gar 'ill  appear  to  ye  in  another  minnit. 
You're  a  very  pretty  shot,  Misther  Hedg- 
er, an'  that's  a  fine  bird  neatly  tum- 
bled. Might  I  ax  if  ye  have  knocked 
over  many  more  of  them  on  this  hill, 
Misther  Hedger?' 

"'Why,  yis,'  siz  Hedger.  'I'm  not  a 
man  noways  given  to  braggin',  but  I'll 
say  that  if  any  other  man  in  Englan', 
Irelan',  Scotlan',  or  Donegal  would  en- 
gage to  dhrop  as  many  birds  on  this  hill 
as  I've  done  in  the  four  days  I've  been 
on  it  with  Kilgar,  I'd — I'd  just  have  an 
itch  to  see  that  man — Kilgar  himself  only 
excepted.  I  do  admit  that  Kilgar  bates 

me — but  then  Kilgar  bates  the  divil  him- 
62 


MISTHER  KILGAR   OF  ATHLONE 

self;  the  divil  himself  when  he  was  a 
dhragoon  couldn't  shoot  with  Misther 
Kilgar  iv  Athlone.  That's  admitted,  an' 
can't  be  denied.' 

"Indeed?  Misther  Kilgar  invited  ye 
help  him  shoot  the  hill,  I  suppose  ? ' 

"Ay.  Ye  see  it's  this  way:  There's 
a  scoundhril  iv  a  fella  goin'  about  here — 
an'  unhung  too,  I'm  sorry  to  say — that 
they  call  the  Red  Poocher.  He  was 
startin'  in  with  his  thricks  upon  sthran- 
gers  when  I  come  here,  an'  I  put  about 
the  size  iv  a  naggin  iv  shot  into  him  wan 
evenin'  an'  passed  him  on  from  me  moor 
— Meenavalla.  He  come  this  way,  an* 
Kilgar,  noways  loth  to  help  the  lame  dog 
over  the  stile,  give  him  another  fistful  or 
two  iv  the  same  medicine,  an'  sent  him 
further.  On  the  sthren'th  iv  this  we 
sthruck  up  an  acquaintance,  an'  shot  our 
lan's  day  about,  formin'  an  alliance  that 
has  sthruck  terror  to  the  hearts  of  all 
63 


THE   RED   POOCHER 

poochers,  an'  kep'  them  as  mute  mice  in 
a  male-bag.' 

"Railly? '  siz  the  sthranger,  in  a  very 
sleekit,  quiet  way.  'Then  I'm  mortial 
glad  to  1'arnit.  I  am  mighty  intherested 
meself  in  the  suppression  iv  poochers  an' 
poochin'.' 

' '  Right  ye  are,  oul'  chap.  Give  us  yer 
han'  on  it,'  siz  Hedger,  reachin'  for  the 
fella's  fist. 

"Aisy,  aisy,'  siz  the  fella,  dhrawin' 
back.  'Mortial  much  intherested,  I  say, 
in  the  suppression  iv  poochers  and  pooch- 
in', an'  that's  why  it'll  give  me  shupreme 
pleasure  to — with  all  the  expedition  I 
can — present  you,  Misther  Hedger  iv 
Oxfoord,  England,  with  a  writ  for  a  very 
han'some  figure  i'  damages,  be  raison  iv 
yerself  an'  yer  sarvint,  in  conjunction 
with  another  pair  iv  notorious  poochers 
— wan  iv  them  popularly  known  as  the 
Red  Poocher — shootin'  my  Binbane  take 
64 


MISTHER   KILGAR   OF  ATHLONE 

for  four  days,  an'  killin',  slayin',  and  other- 
wise desthroyin'  the  grouse,  snipe,  an' 
hares  thereon,  an'  other  game.  My 
name  is  Misther  Kilgar — Misther  Au- 
gustus Kilgar,  iv  Athlone,  solicitor.  An', 
furthermore,  Misther  Hedger  iv  Oxfoord, 
Englan','  siz  he,  still  in  the  politest  man- 
ner imaginable,  '  I  may  mention  for  yer 
gratification  that  if  yer  English  frien's 
don't  die  till  they  taste  some  iv  the 
many  hampers  iv  game  you've  been 
thrinnlin'  off  to  them  from  Meena- 
valla,  they're  likely  to  live  to  a  very 
ripe  oul'  age.  It's  a  sort  of  consolation 
to  me  to  know  that  if  the  Red  Poocher 
got  yer  help  to  pooch  me,  he  likeways 
took  the  loan  iv  ye  to  help  pooch  yer- 
self. 

"'As  to  the  criminal  action  ye Ve  left 
yerself  open  to,  Misther  Hedger  iv  Ox- 
foord,   England,    I'll    lay  that    entirely 
atween  yerself  an'  the  police.1 
5  65 


THE   RED   POOCHER 

"  Faith,  poor  Grip's  'wakened  again, 
an'  as  fresh  as  a  May  flower.  Ellen,  a 
theagair,  Grip  would  die  in  the  dumps  if 
I  didn't  let  him  toss  a  broc  now  an'  again 
for  sport." 


66 


MISTHER    McCRAN    OF   BEL- 
FAST 


Ill 

MISTHER      McCRAN     OF     BEL- 
FAST 

Now  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that 
Tdmas  Dubh  and  I  were  poaching. 
Tomas  held  the  threefold  office  of  herd, 
steward,  and  gamekeeper  of  the  Sruaill 
hills. 

For  lack  of  cover,  these  were  bad 
grouse  hills,  so  that  Mr.  Cusack,  the  Dub- 
lin gentleman  to  whom  they  belonged, 
could  not  get  the  shooting  of  them  rented. 
Some  years  he  came  down  and  shot  them 
himself,  some  years  his  sons  came  down 
and  spent  their  holidays  on  them,  and 
again,  some  years  he  wrote  to  Tdmas  to 
shoot  them  for  him. 

The  last  was  the  case  on  this  particu- 
69 


THE  RED  POOCHER 

lar  year;  and  Tdmas  very  kindly  invited 
me  to  fetch  over  my  gun  and  join  him. 

Tdmas  and  I,  though  we  lived  a  good 
ten  miles  apart,  were  next-door  neighbors ; 
for  whilst  Tdmas  occupied  the  last  house 
up  the  southern  face  of  the  Croagh 
Gorm,  I  occupied  the  first  house  down 
the  northern  slope.  Our  sheep-runs, 
then,  joined  half-way  over  the  hills ;  and 
up  there  among  the  skies  we  frequently 
met  when  going  our  daily  round  to  gather 
in  our  sheep,  and  treated  each  other  to  a 
smoke,  the  gossip  of  our  respective  par- 
ishes, and  the  marks  and  tokens  of 
strayed  sheep. 

Tdmas  having  good-naturedly  asked 
me  to  join  him,  I  took  ten  days  to  my- 
self, handing  over  charge  of  my  flock  to 
Maeve.  It  was  not  the  first  or  the  twen- 
tieth time  she  had  ranged  the  hills  to 
count  and  gather  the  sheep.  She  knew 

every  neuk  on  them  as  well  as  the  lark 
70 


MISTHER   McCRAN   OF   BELFAST 

that  sang  his  life  away  amongst  them, 
and  she  could  scour  them  like  a  swal- 
low. 

Tdmas  and  I  had  had  for  a  week  the 
most  delightful  weather.  But  early  one 
morning  as  we  climbed  the  hill,  he  di- 
rected my  attention  to  Croghan-na-raidh, 
away  in  the  west,  and  to  the  little  cloud 
that  sat  upon  it. 

"A  nightcap  on  Croghan-na-raidh,' 
said  Tdmas ;  "  the  weather  '11  br'ak  on  us 
the  day,  as  sure  as  gun's  iron." 

And  he  was  right,  too.  The  weather 
did  break  on  us.  But  he  had  wisely  pro- 
vided that  we  should  not  be  far  from 
home.  He  had  not,  however,  calculated 
upon  a  mist.  And  in  the  mountains  that 
unwelcome  visitor  has  a  method  of  evad- 
ing all  calculations. 

We  got  lost  in  the  mist — hopelessly,  as 
at  first  it  seemed  to  me.  But,  after  sev- 
eral hours  of  despair,  a  running  stream 


THE   RED   POOCHER 

was  eventually  our  salvation.  It  led  us 
off  the  mountains — but  where  we  knew 
not.  When  we  reached  a  cabin  that 
neither  of  us,  in  all  our  wanderings  (so  it 
seemed  to  us)  had  ever  before  beheld, 
and  when  going  in  we  found  Ellen  house- 
keeping in  it,  our  senses — as  is  ever  the 
case  with  men  who  have  got  lost  in  a 
mist — would  not  be  by  her  convinced 
that  this  was  Tdmas's  own  cabin  which 
both  of  us  had  quitted  that  morning. 

Ellen  felt  certain  that  we  were  under 
fairy  influence.  So  she  made  us  join 
her  in  a  Rosary.  And  then  she  served 
us  with  a  good  supper. 

Neither  Tdmas  nor  I  felt  that  there 
was  any  illusion  whatever  about  the  sup- 
per, and  it  reconciled  us  to  the  curious 
state  of  things  that  seemed  to  exist.  We 
confessed  that  the  sidhe  of  the  mist  had 
got  possession  of  us;  and,  tho  through 

Ellen's  prayers  we  had  got  back  without 
72 


MISTHER  McCRAN   OF  BELFAST 

bodily  mishap,  our  senses  in  part  lingered 
still  behind. 

We  had  known  many,  many  cases  of 
unfortunate  people  upon  the  hills  having 
been  taken  away  with  the  fairies  before. 

And  we  now  knew  that  by  the  next 
morning  we  should  find  ourselves  as  we 
had  been.* 

"In  throth,"  said  Tdmas,  as  our  chat 
brightened  and  lightened,  "we  wirr  in 
purty  near  as  bad  a  plight  as  Misther 
McCran  the  time  he  believed  he  wasn't 
himself,  but  another." 

"Misther  McCran?  That's  not  the 
Misther- 

"  Ay,  but  it's  jist  the  Misther  McCran 
that  owned  Meenavalla." 

*I  do  not  know  if  it  is  necessary  to  tell  that  when 
one  loses  one's  self  in  a  mist  or  in  the  night,  he  will 
not,  on  finding  them,  recognize  fields,  places,  houses, 
that  were  perfectly  familiar  to  him.  And  if,  at  dis- 
covery of  these  objects,  he  has  been  entertaining  the 
idea  that  he  is  amongst  other  scenes,  illusion  has 
still  stronger  hold  of  him. 

73 


THE  RED  POOCHER 

"What!  Ye  don't  mane  to  say  the 
fairies  tuk  him  away? " 

"  No,  but  the  Red  Poocher  did." 

"Oh,  the  Red  Poocher?  Tdmas,  a 
mhic " 

"  Yis,  I'm  just  go'n'  to  reh'arse  it  for 
ye.  If  ye  have  only  the  good  manners  to 
offer  me  a  shough  i'  that  pipe." 

"  Beg  pardon,  Tdmas,"  and  I  wiped 
the  stem  on  my  coat  sleeve  and  passed 
the  pipe  over  to  him. 

He  nodded  acknowledgment. 

"  Well,  ye  see,  the  Red  Poocher  had 
pooched  Meenavalla,  as  I  reh'arsed  to  ye 
afore,  for  three  years  runnin'.  Well, 
Meenavalla  then  begun  to  get  such  a  bad 
name,  seein'  the  red  scoundhril  was  so 
fond  iv  it,  that  sportsmen  got  shy  iv  it. 
The  men  that  had  been  rentin'  it  not 
only  lost  their  game— an'  that  was  bad 
enough — but  they  foun'  that  they  wirr 
made  a  laughin '-stock  iv,  intil  the  bargain. 
74 


MISTHER  McCRAN   OF  BELFAST 

So  the  next  year  afther  Hedger  iv  Ox- 
foord  was  so  completely  an'  shamefully 
thricked  the  sorra  man  could  McCran 
get  to  take  the  Meenavalla  shootin'  if  he 
was  to  bestow  it  to  them.  It  lay,  then, 
that  year  without  a  sportsman  levellin'  a 
gun  on  it,  barrin'  oul'  Micky  Murrin. 
Micky  Murrin  was  the  new  gamekeeper 
McCran  had  got,  all  the  way  from  Ards; 
for  poor  Peadhar  Kittagh,  like  meself, 
got  his  notice  to  quit  immaidiately  the 
news  reached  him  iv  the  Red  Poocher's 
doin'  Peadhar  an'  Hedger.  Micky  he 
come  to  him  with  great  comme'dations 
entirely  for  bein'  a  cliver  fella  out  an'  out 
that  no  poocher  could  outwit.  Well, 
Micky  was  the  only  Christian  scatthered 
shot  on  the  moor  that  year.  Sthrange 
to  say,  the  Red  Poocher  niver  showed 
his  nose  on  it  atween  June  an'  Janiary. 
Both  Micky  Murrin  an'  Misther  McCran 
thought  this  was  all  owin'  to  Micky's 
75 


THE  RED   POOCHER 

own  good  managementship ;  but  then 
ye'd  get  others  to  say— meself  for  wan — 
that  the  Red  Poocher  wouldn't  waste  his 
time  walkin'  over  both  Micky  Murrin  an' 
Micky  Murrin's  moor  when  there  wasn't 
a  rich  gintleman  in  quistion  that  he'd 
have  the  pleasure  iv  makin'  a  hare  iv." 

"Which,  Tdmas,  is  my  opinion  like- 
wise." 

"  But,  be  that  as  it  may,  the  Red 
Poocher  scoured  the  Gweedore  counthry 
that  saison,  an'  left  Meenavalla  to  Micky 
an'  paice.  Nixt  saison  it  was  the  self- 
same story.  No  sportsman  tuk  it,  the 
Red  Poocher  didn't  throuble  it,  an'  Micky 
Murrin  shot  it. 

"  Well  an'  good ;  it  lucked  as  if  Mis- 
ther  McCran  was  niver  goin'  to  get 
Meenavalla  rented  more.  So  on  the  fol- 
lowin'  saison  he  says :  '  Bad  luck  saize  the 
Red  Poocher!  I'll  go  down  an'  shoot  it 

meself.'    An'  down,  accordin'ly,  he  sits, 
76 


MISTHER   McCRAN   OF   BELFAST 

an'  sen's  Micky  Murrin  a  letther  to  that 
effect,  tellin'  him  about  the  date  he'd  be 
likely  to  arrive,  an'  givin'  him  full  pur- 
tiklers  an'  diractions  regardin'  the  prep- 
arations he  was  to  make. 

"  Micky  then  laid  out  his  accounts  for 
to  be  prepared  for  his  masther.  An'  of 
a  mornin'  about  the  time  mentioned  in 
the  letther  down  the  road  Micky  sees  a 
Glenties  car  comin',  with  wan  solitary 
man  on  it  besides  the  dhriver,  an'  hauls 
up  at  the  doore. 

' '  Hilloa ! '  siz  the  gintleman,  steppin' 
off.  '  I  suppose  you're  Michael  Murrin  ? ' 

"  'Well,  yis— Micky  Murrin,'  siz  Micky, 
siz  he.  'I  dar'  say  you're  Misther 
McCran?' 

"'That's  me,' siz  he. 

' '  I  haven't  the  smallest  doubt  iv  yer 

honor's  word ;  but,  all  the  same,  I  know 

ye'll  excuse  me  axin'  for  proof  iv  yer 

idintity.    Ye  can  quite  undherstan','  siz 

77 


THE  RED   POOCHER 

he,  'why  I  insist  upon  this  little  matther 
iv  form.' 

"Quite  right  indeed  ye  irr,  Michael/ 
siz  he.  'Parfectly  right.  I  can  well 
undherstand  it,  an'  I'm  obliged  to  ye  for 
bein'  so  sthrict  even  with  meself.  What 
name,'  siz  he  to  the  dhriver,  'did  I  regis- 
ther  under  at  your  hotel  where  I  spent 
las'  night?' 

'"Misther  McCran  iv  Belfast,' siz  the 
buck  on  the  car. 

"'Which,'  siz  Micky,  'is  not  sufficient 
proof,  your  honor.' 

'  Which,'  siz  his  honor,  'is  not  suffi- 
cient proof,  as  you  very  prudently  remark, 
frien'  Michael.  So,'  siz  he,  producin'  a 
han'ful  i'  letthers  from  his  pocket,  'have 
the  goodness  to  obsarve  the  addhresses 
on  these.' 

"  Micky  took  the  letthers  in  his  han', 
an'  seen  them  aich  an'  ivery  wan  ad- 

dhressed  'Misther  James   Bartholomew 
78 


MISTHER   McCRAN   OF  BELFAST 

McCran,  No.  31  Castle  Place,  Belfast'; 
an'  more  iv  them,  'James  Bartholomew 
McCran,  Esquire,  No.  31  Castle  Place, 
Belfast.' 

'These,'  siz  he,  producin'  wee  square 
bits  iv  pasteboord  with  his  name  on  them 
— 'these  is  mae  cards.' 

"An'  now,'  siz  he,  'be  plaised  to  ob- 
sarve  mae  bags.' 

"  Micky  obsarved  the  bags  likewise,  an' 
on  aich  iv  them  was'J.  B.  McC.'prented 
in  white  letthers,  ivery  wan  i'  them  the 
size  iv  a  goose-egg. 

'"That's  all  right,'  siz  Micky;  'an' 
ye're  right  heartily  welcome,  Misther 
McCran,  to  these  parts.' 

"  Misther  McCran  he  then  paid  off  the 
carman,  givin'  him  han'some  whip-money, 
an'  went  in  with  Micky,  who  set  him 
down  at  wanst,  with  small  delay,  a  Meena- 
valla  welcome — his  fill  to  ait  iv  the  sweet- 
est, his  fill  to  dhrink  iv  the  sthrongest, 
79 


lashin's  an*  laivin's,  and  pocket  his 
thanks. 

"  Nixt  mornin'  Micky  an'  him,  dhrawin' 
the  doore  afther  them,  took  ti  the  moor 
with  their  guns,  an'  had  a  very  fine  day's 
sport.  Micky  had  thought  that  Misther 
McCran  wouldn't  be  no  great  shakes  iv 
a  shot,  an'  that  the  best  he  could  expect 
off  him  would  be  to  do  no  harm  with  his 
gun.  But  when  Misther  McCran  yocked 
to  shoot,  faith  Micky's  opinion  changed 
as  aisy  as  a  poun'  note  in  a  public.*  An' 
Misther  McCran  explained  till  him  that, 
though  he  niver  come  to  shoot  Meena- 
valla  afore,  he  was  in  the  habit  iv  shootin' 
Scotch  moors  with  frien's  iv  his  beyont 
the  wather. 

"  Micky  he  thraited  him  to  the  heighth 
iv  good  thraitmint  that  night  again.  An' 
nixt  day  they  had  another  splendid  day 
upon  the  moors.  An'  as  they  thrudged 

*  A  public-bouse — a  tavern. 
80 


MISTHER  McCRAN   OF  BELFAST 

back  again  in  the  evenin',  Micky,  from 
the  top  iv  the  hill  above  the  house,  be- 
held his  doore  open.  He  bethought  him 
that  maybe  he  forgot  to  dhraw  it  afther 
'im  when  they  wirr  laivin'  in  the  mornin'. 

"  But  the  nixt  minnit  he  seen  the  shape 
iv  a  head,  he  believed,  put  out  an'  then 
pulled  in  again.  'Now,'  thought  Micky 
to  himself,  'Long  Hudie  Haghie  has 
dhropped  over  to  bid  me  again  for  them 
pair  i'  yo  lambs  he  was  pricin'  last  Sun- 
day; but,  upon  mae  socks,  onless  he's 
ready  to  give  me  the  thirty  shillin's  I 
axed,  he'll  niver  dhrive  them  to  Carkir  at 
twenty-nine  an'  elevenpence  ha'penny.' 

"  But,  behoul'  ye,  the  very  nixt  thing 
Micky  spies,  when  he  come  a  piece 
further,  was  a  jauntin'-car  dhrawn  up  be 
the  en' i' the  house.  'Then,' siz  Micky, 
siz  he  till  himself, 'it's  jobbers  for  the  fair 
iv  Ardhara  has  gone  in  to  light  their 

pipes.    Good  luk  ti  their  wits !  they'd  as 
6  81 


THE  RED   POOCHER 

likely  get  holy  wather  in  an  Orange  lodge 
as  a  glint  iv  fire  there.' 

"  But  it  was  naither  Long  Hudie 
Haghie  nor  jobbers  for  the  fair.  When 
Micky  stepped  in  there  was  four  gintle- 
men  saited  at  their  aise ;  an'  the  minnit 
Micky's  companion  put  his  fut  within  the 
threshel  afther  him,  all  four  i'  them  ups, 
an'  there  was  four  guns  levelled  at  his 
frien's  head. 

"'Dhrop  that  gun  out  i'  yer  han*  as 
fast  as  ye'd  say  "knife,1"  siz  the  biggest 
i'  the  four  gintlemen,  with  the  muzzle  iv 
his  own  gun  not  six  inches  from  the  poor 
fella's  brains. 

"It  was  a  bad  time  to  yock  to  arguey 
the  quistion,  so  the  poor  fella  dhropped 
his  gun  instantly,  an'  him  the  color  iv  the 
lime  wall  in  the  face. 

"'Put  yer  han's  behin' yer  back  now, 
if  ye  plaise,'  siz  the  big  fella,  houldin'  his 

gun  steady. 

82 


MISTHER   McCRAN   OF  BELFAST 

"Now,  men,1  siz  the  big  gintleman, 
'secure  the  scoundhril.' 

"  The  other  three,  without  many  words, 
boun'  his  arms  together  behin'  his  back. 
When  that  was  safely  done  the  big  gin- 
tleman lowered  his  gun,  an'  lookin' 
Micky's  late  f rien'  in  the  eye,  says : 

"It's  a  sayin'  as  thrue  as  it's  oul',  that 
though  the  fox  runs  long,  he's  caught  at 
last.  Eh,  ye  villain  ye,  is  that  not  so  ? ' 

"  The  poor  fella  be  this  time  had  got 
his  tongue,  an' — 

"In  the  name  i' God,  gintlemen,'  siz 
he,  'what's  this?  or  what's  the  mainin'  iv 
it  at  all,  at  all  ?  Irr  yez  goin'  to  murdher 
an  innocent  man  ? ' 

"Well,  at  that  the  four  gintlemen  set 
up  a  loud  laugh. 

'"An  innocent  man! '  siz  the  big  lad. 

'Upon  mae  word  ye're  a  cool  customer 
— as  cool  as  a  bog-hole  at  Chrissmas.' 
Then  he  turns  to  Micky,  who  was  stand- 
83 


THE  RED   POOCHER 

in'  by  waitin'  his  own  turn,  an'  shakin*  in 
his  shoes  to  keep  himself  warm  mane- 
while.  '  Have  I  the  honor,'  siz  he,  in  a 
way  made  the  others  laugh  again — 'the 
honor  iv  addhressin'  Misther  Michael 
Murrin  ? ' 

'Yi — yi — yis,'  siz  poor  Micky,  siz  he; 
'that's  me.' 

"Care-taker  an' gamekeeper,' siz  the 
big  gintleman,  'iv  Meenavalla? ' 
'Yis,  if  ye  plaise.' 

' '  For  James  Bartholomew  McCran,  iv 
Belfast?' 

'"For  Misther  McCran  iv  Belfast,'  siz 
Micky. 

"An'  did  I  write  ye  a  letther  not  many 
weeks  ago,  sayin'  I  wis  comin'  down  here 
to  shoot  Meenavalla  meself?  An'  be 
whose  authority  have  ye  taken  on  yerself 
to  give  this  lad  parmission  to  shoot  my 
Ian',  an',  moreover,  to  aid  an'  abate  him 

yourself  parsonally  ? ' 
84 


MISTHER  McCRAN   OF  BELFAST 

"'What? '  siz  Micky,  siz  he,  all  dum- 
foundhered. 

"'What's  that? 'siz  the  lad  that  was 
boun',  an'  he  blazin'  in  the  face.  '  What's 
that? 'siz  he. 

"Til  tell  ye  what,' siz  the  big  gintle- 
man,  turnin'  on  kirn,  an'  gettin'  up  his 
gun  again  in  a  thraitenin'  manner. 
'You'll  be  plaised  to  have  the  good  man- 
ners— which  I  suppose  ye're  not  used  till 
— to  keep  yer  tongue  in  yer  jaw,  an'  spaik 
only  when  ye're  spoken  till.  Obsarve 
that  advice,  or  if  ye  don't,  by  mae  faith 
ye'll  temp'  me  to  give  ye  the  disarts 
you've  long  'arned,  an'  whitewash  that 
wall  with  yer  brains,'  siz  he.  Then  turn- 
in'  again  to  Micky,  who  was  just  now  be- 
ginnin'  to  get  a  wee  glimmerin'  iv  the 
mainin'  iv  all  this,  he  says: 

"I've  axed  ye  two  plain  quistions,  an' 
I  want  two  plain  answers :  Did  ye  or  did 
ye  not  get  a  letther  from  me,  sayin'  I  was 
85 


THE  RED  POOCHER 

comin'  down  to  shoot  this  place  meself  ? 
An'  by  whose  ordhers  are  ye  helpin'  this 
gintleman  here  to  shoot  it? ' 

'"I-I-I-I  got  a  letther,'  Micky  stam- 
mers, 'from  Misther  McCran,  sayin'  he 
was  comin'  down  to  shoot  it  himself.' 

"Exactly.  An'  might  I  throuble  ye 
to  tell  me  if  this  han'some  gintleman  we 
have  in  the  corner  is  named  Misther 
McCran  ? '  siz  he,  lookin'  at  his  compan- 
ions with  a  wink. 

'"Yi— yis,'  siz  Micky. 

"  An'  with  that  the  lads  laughed  both 
loud  an'  long,  till  ye  wouldn't  give  three 
ha'pence  for  them. 

"An','  siz  the  gintleman,  'may  I  ax 
how  ye  have  his  name  so  pat  ? ' 

" '  He  touT  it  till  me  himself,'  siz  Micky, 
sthraight  back.  An'  this  set  them  off  in 
such  another  roar  iv  laughin'  that  ye'd 
think  the  ribs  i'  them  would  crack. 

"An','  siz  the  poor  fella  himself,  as 
86 


MISTHER  McCRAN   OF  BELFAST 

boul'  as  ye  plaise,  'Misther  McCran  is 
mae  name ! ' 

"  All  four  turned  an'  looked  at  him  as 
mad  as  hatters. 

'  Yis,  we  know,  we  know,'  siz  the  big 
gintleman  then,  quietly  but  thraitenin'ly. 
'We  know  that,' siz  he;  'but  I  think  I 
obsarved  to  ye  afore  that  it  isn't  whole- 
some for  ye  to  spaik  much  until  ye 're 
spoken  to.  Shut  yer  jaw  now,  an'  ax 
mae  laive  afore  ye  open  it  again.' 

'  'An'  so,'  siz  he  then,  turnin'  again  to 
Micky,  'he  toul'  ye  himself,  did  he,  that 
he  was  Misther  McCran  ? '  The  lads 
laughed  again,  he  put  it  so  comically  to 
Micky.  'It's  a  wondher  to  me  now  he 
continted  himself  with  plain  Misther 
McCran,  an'  that  he  didn't  go  in  for 
Prence  i'  Wales,  eh? ' 

"'Och,'  siz  Micky,  siz  he,  'I  didn't  be- 
lieve 'im  that  aisy  till  he  showed  me  his 
letthers  addhressed  to  Misther  McCran, 
87 


THE  RED   POOCHER 

an1  showed  me  bits  i'  pasteboord  with  the 
name  prented  on  them,  an'  his  bag  be- 
sides, with  the  first  letthers  iv  his  name 
on  it.' 

"  The  gintleman  jumped  on  the  floore 
at  this. 

"'He  did,  did  he? 'siz  he.  'Oh,  the 
natarnal  scoundhril  that  he  is!  Boys,' 
siz  he,  Varch  'im  instantly.  If  he  has 
wan  i'  my  letthers  on  'im,  I'll  blow  out 
the  rascal's  brains  without  givin'  'im  time 
ti  say  God  bless  him !  It  wasn't  enough 
to  stale  me  bag  an'  come  an'  thry  to  stale 
me  shootin' !  but  for  to  go  for  to  thry  for 
to  stale  me  very  name,  an'  pocket  me  let- 
thers to  prove  it,  that's  what  I'll  not 
stan' ! '  siz  he,  goin'  up  an'  down  the  house 
rampagin'  an'  swearin'  lake  a  bad  shearer, 
while  the  other  three  went  through  the 
buck's  pockets  an'  turned  them  inside 
out.  He  too  was  beginnin'  to  swear  an' 

to  ballyrag,  till  the  big  gintleman  run  at 
88 


MISTHER  McCRAN   OF  BELFAST 

'im  with  the  butt  en'ivhis  gun,  an'  ittuk 
'is  frien's  all  they  wirr  able  to  keep  'im 
from  makin'  a  shower  iv  'is  brains.  Then 
the  buck  soon  quieted  when  he  seen  how 
much  in  airnest  the  big  fella  wis. 

"  There,  sure  enough,  they  got  as  many 
letthers  as  would  sthart  a  wee  post-office 
— all  addhressed  to  Misther  McCran — 
an'  a  pack  iv  wee  white  cards  with  Misther 
McCran 's  name  an'  addhress  on  them; 
an'  a  bunch  iv  keys,  moreover,  that  the 
gintleman  likewise  laid  claim  till. 

"  'Well,  hard  feedin'  to  me,'  siz  he,  'if 
this  isn't  the  rarest  customer  it  has  iver 
been  me  fortune  to  fall  in  with  afore! 
Thank  God,'  siz  he,  'that  I've  got  as 
much  ividence  as  'ill  thranspoort  the 
vagabone.  I'm  only  sorry  I  can't  have 
'im  hung.' 

"  All  at  wanst,  when  Micky  Murrin  he 
seen  this,  it  dahned  on  'im  how  cliverly 

he'd  been  taken  in. 

89 


THE  RED   POOCHER 

"'An'  I'm  sure,  now,'  siz  Micky,  siz 
he,  'it  wasn't  aisy  for  me  to  misdoubt  the 
bla'g'ard's  word  when  he  had  all  that 
ividence.  It  would  take  a  sight  long- 
headeder  man  nor  me  to  see  through  'im.' 

"  I  wisht  ye  wirr  to  see  the  face  i'  the 
boy  when  Micky  tanned  'im  a  bla'g'ard ; 
it  was  a  frightsome  sight.  An' — 

' '  Hoh,  hoh,  hoh ! '  siz  he,  in  spite  iv  the 
gun,  'is  it  you,  ye  miserable  divil,  ye!' 
siz  he,  'that's  goin'  to  join  to  abuse  me, 
too  ?  By  the  good  daylight,  I  '11  be  square 
with  you,  me  gintleman — as  well  as  with 
these  oother  scoundhrils ! '  He  was  in 
an  awsome  rage. 

"'Be  aisy!  Didn't  I  tell  ye  be  aisy, 
an'  keep  yer  tongue  in  yer  jaw? '  siz  the 
big  gintleman,  gettin'  up  the  gun  again. 
'Ye  would  thrait,  would  ye?  Would  ye, 
ye  natarnal  villain,  ye  ?  Faith  yer  mem- 
ory 'ill  have  purty  near  as  good  a  sthretch 

as  yer  conscience  if  ye  keep  spite  into 
90 


MISTHER   McCRAN   OF  BELFAST 

Michael  Murrin  till  ye  come  back  from 
Bottomy  Bay.  Give  less  i'  yer  chin- 
whack,  now,  for  ye  don'  know  how  near 
heaven's  to  ye — or  the  other  place — this 
minnit.  Come,  boys,'  siz  he,  'hustle  the 
rogue  on  the  car,  an'  thrinnle  'iin  off  to 
the  police-office  at  Glenties  as  fast  as  the 
divil  can  carry  yez.  You,  McClellan,' 
siz  he  to  wan  i'  them,  'swear  all  soorts 
again'  'im.  Give  'im  up  on  a  charge  iv 
poochin',  thievin',  an'  swindlin'.  Then 
hurry  back  here.' 

"  They  hustled  'im  on  the  car,  an' 
sthrapped  the  poor  divil  down,  notwith- 
standin'  that  he  cursed  an  swore  an' 
ranted  an'  raved,  for  all  the  wurrP  lake  a 
bad  lunatic,  an'  threatened  them  an'  theirs 
with  all  soorts  i'  vengeance.  An*  me 
boul'  Micky  Murrin,  the  cutest  man  ye 
iver  seen  at  how  he'd  been  taken  in,  he 
swore  back  at  'im,  and  shuk  his  closed 
fist  undher  his  nose,  an'  give  'im  a  no- 


THE  RED   POOCHER 

tion  iv  what  he'd  like  to  be  afther  doin' 
with  'im  if  he  had  his  way;  an'  when  the 
car  started,  Micky  stud  on  the  road  hurlin' 
'im  back  two  curses  again'  his  wan — an' 
two  i'  Micky's  best  curses  had  more 
venom  in  them  than  any  half-score  i'  th' 
other  lad's,  for,  more  be  the  same  token, 
the  lad  should  'a'  been  ashamed  iv  'is 
cursin',  for  he  didn't  know  how  ti  do  it 
an'  do  it  right. 

"'An',  Misther  McCran,  yer  honor,' 
now  siz  Micky  to  him  we  may  call  the 
rale  Misther  McCran — that  is,  the  big 
gintleman  i'  the  party — a  powerful  fine 
big  fella,  more  be  token  he  was  iv  a  dark 
complexion,  with  hair  an'  whiskers  lake  a 
crow's  wing — 'how  does  yer  honor  know,' 
siz  Micky,  siz  he,  'for  sartint  that  it's  the 
Red  Poocher  we  have  ? ' 

" '  Hagh,'  siz  he, '  God  bliss  yer  inno- 
cence! I  know  it,'  siz  he,  'in  the  first 

place,  be  his  thrick.    Who  but  the  Red 
92 


MISTHER   McCRAN   OF  BELFAST 

Poocher  himself  'ud  have  the  head  to 
play  so  cliver  a  thrick  ? ' 

'Thrue  enough,'  siz  Micky.    'An'  in 
the  nixt  place  ? ' 

'  'An'  in  the  nixt  place  be  his  color,  ye 
gawmy,  ye ! ' 

'"But  he's  not  red,'  siz  Micky. 

" 'An'  what  color  then? '  siz  he. 

"'Sandy,  iv  coorse,'  siz  Micky;  'but 
that's  not—' 

'Oh,  it's  not  red,  isn't  it?  Sandy  isn't 
red!  I  wish,'  siz  he,  'when  ye're  so  tar- 
ribly  cute,  that  ye  could  manage  to  see 
the  differ  atween  an  honest  man  an' a 
dishonest  wan.  But  ti  plaise  ye  we'll  call 
'im  the  Sandy  Poocher.  Is  yer  min'  aisy 
now  ? ' 

"  The  other  three  lads  wirr  gone  off 
with  the  poocher,  an'  this  gintleman  now 
explained  to  Micky  how  he'd  come  as  far 
as  Glenties  three  nights  afore,  an'  he'd 

been  persuaded  to  go  off  on  down  to  the 
93 


THE  RED   POOCHER 

Rosses,  where  two  iv  his  frien's  had  a 
shootin'.  He  went  off  there,  laivin'  his 
largest  bag  behin'  him,  he  explained,  an* 
sayin'  he'd  be  gone  ten  days.  An'  it  wis 
only  when  he  got  down  to  the  Rosses  he 
missed  his  keys,  so  they  had  dhriven  up 
all  the  way  that  day,  himself  an'  his 
frien's,  up  to  Glenties  again  till  he'd  get 
his  keys.  Behould  ye,  his  bag  was  gone 
when  he  come  back,  an'  they  couldn't  ac- 
count for  it  nohow  in  the  hotel.  But  he 
wasn't  long  till  he  got  a  wee  clew  that 
fetched  himself  an'  his  frien's  on  here  as 
hard  as  they  could  gallop — an'  with  what 
prime  good  luck  Micky  had  just  seen. 

"  Very  well  an'  good.  At  along  bed- 
time that  night  the  other  three  come  back 
with  the  news  that  they  had  put  the  lad 
in  safekeeping  an'  got  him  afore  a  magis- 
thrate  an'  remanded  for  a  week,  which 
was  well. 

"  As  they  wirr  on  the  groun',  they  con- 
94 


MISTHER  McCRAN   OF  BELFAST 

sidhered  they'd  remain  an'  take  a  week 
or  ten  days'  shootin'  out  iv  Meenavalla 
afore  goin'  back  to  their  Rosses  shootin' 
again.  So,  accordin'ly,  nixt  mornin'  they 
wirr  on  the  hill,  an'  ivery  mornin  afther 
it  for  a  week,  dailin'  mortial  desthruction 
among  the  birds,  an'  recreatin'  them- 
selves cursin'  the  Red  Poocher  an'  pray- 
in' bad  prayers  on  'im  ivery  time  they  sat 
down  to  dhraw  their  win'.  An'  the  day 
afore  the  Red  Poocher's  thrial  wis  to 
come  on,  they  wint  down  that  night  to 
Glenties,  an'  left  Micky  his  ordhers  ti  be 
off  for  Glenties  at  an  early  br'ekwis-time, 
so  as  ti  be  sure  ti  be  there  at  two  o'clock, 
the  time  the  magisthrates  wis  to  sit. 

"  So  off  at  an  early  br'ekwis-time  me 
brave  Micky  starts,  takin'  with  'im  Mis- 
ther  McCran's  keys  that  he  had  foun'  on 
the  dhresser.  But  lo,  sir,  when  he  came 
to  Dhrimnacroish,  within  a  long  mile  i' 
Glenties,  he  sees  a  car  comin'  with  four 
95 


THE  RED   POOCHER 

polismen  an'  the  pres'ner.  'What's  the 
mainin'  i'  this  ? '  thinks  Micky.  But,  mae 
sowl,  he  wasn't  long  in  doubts  till  the  car 
throtted  up  an'  the  polismen  an'  pres'ner 
jumped  off  an'  surrounded  'im. 

' '  Hoh,  hoh,  hoh !  ye  scoundhril ! '  siz 
the  pres'ner,  siz  he,  shakin'  his  fist  at 
Micky,  an'  tearin'  to  get  at  'im,  takin' 
the  polis  all  they  could  do  to  houl'  'im 
back.  'Hoh,  hoh,  hoh!  the  scoundhril! 
He's  as  bad  as  the  poochers !  Saize  'im, 
the  villain !  Saize  'im,  the  natarnal  ras- 
cal !  Saize  'im,  an'  put  the  han'cuffs  on 
'im ! '  an'  with  the  fair  dint  i'  rage  he  was 
shakin'  lake  a  frost-bitten  frog. 

"'Gintlemen,'  siz  Micky,  siz  he,  'what 
— what — what's  the  mainin'  i'  this  at  all, 
at  all?' 

'"The  mainin'  iv  it?  In  troth,  I'll  be 
afther  lettin'  ye  know  the  mainin'  iv  it 
afore  I'm  done  with  ye!'  siz  the  lad, 

springin'  ti  get  at  'im  again. 
96 


MISTHER  McCRAN  OF  BELFAST 

'The  mainin'  iv  it  is,  me  good  man,' 
siz  the  sarjint  i'  polis,  siz  he,  'that  this 
gintleman  here,  Misther  McCran  i'  Bel- 
fast—' 

"Gintlemen,'  siz  Micky,  in  mortial 
alarm,  'yez  is  anondher  a  gran'  mistake — ' 

'  'I  beg  yer  pardon,'  siz  the  sarjint,  'till 
I'm  finished.  This  gintleman  here,  Mis- 
ther McCran,  as  I  afore  sayed,  i'  Belfast, 
a  most  daicent  respectable  gintleman,  iv 
good  cha-nz£v£-ther,  an*  able  to  produce 
the  best  testimonials  as  to  the  same,  has 
been  most  outrageously  an'  disgracefully 
ill-used  by  a  pack  iv  rascally  poochers — 
the  leader  i'  the  gang  bein'  generally 
known  as  the  Red  Poocher,  though  he 
can  convart  himself  into  a  black  poocher 
to  suit  his  purposes — cruelly  ill-used,  I 
say,  this  gintleman  has  been  be  this  vaga- 
bone  pack — which  it  '11  take  you  all  yer 
time  to  proove  that  ye  haven't  been  in 
laigue  with — boun  han'  an'  fut,  carried 
7  97 


THE   RED   POOCHER 

off  he  has  been  be  this  party  i'  criminals, 
carried  off  an'  blin'folded,  and  bore  away 
to  a  still-house  in  some  disolate  part  i' 
the  mountains,  where  he  was  forced  to 
dhrink  potteen,  an'  kep'  dhrunk  iver 
since.  An'  bore  away  again  las'  night 
from  the  still-house,  with  a  bandage  over 
'is  eyes,  an'  left  dhrunk  as  the  divil  at  the 
barrack  doore  in  Glenties,  with  a  placard 
roun'  'is  neck  to  say  that  he  was  the  Red 
Poocher.  An'  when  the  guard,  hearin' 
such  a  thumpin'  i'  the  doore  that  he 
thought  it  was  the  Fenian  risin',  turned 
the  men  out  with  their  guns,  they  foun' 
him  helpless  an'  speechless ;  an'  when  he 
was  tuk  in  an'  fetched  to  himself,  he  could 
tell  nothin'  about  himself,  only  that  he 
was  the  Red  Poocher — an'  that  he'd 
swear  to — till  within  two  hours  ago,  when 
Misther  O'Gara  i'  the  hotel  come  in  an' 
idintified  'im,  an  ,  afther  a  dail  iv  tough 

arguaymint  an'  pursuasion,  got  'im  con- 
98 


MISTHER   McCRAN   OF  BELFAST 

vinced  that  he  wis  himself,  Misther 
McCran  i'  Belfast,  an'  not  the  Red 
Poocher.' 

"  An',  be  cricky !  I  b'lieve  it's  a  daicent 
bedtime.  We'll  be  oursel's  in  the  morn- 
in*  again,  with  God's  help." 

And  we  were. 


99 


MISTHER     O'MARA    FROM 
THE  COUNTY  MAITH 


IV 

MISTHER  O'MARA   FROM  THE 
COUNTY   MAITH 

TOMAS  DUBH  and  I  had  splendid  shoot- 
ing, and  an  altogether  delightful  time, 
that  week.  Tdmas  was  a  capable  game- 
keeper; he  was  a  capital  shot,  and  a 
charming  companion — charming,  if  you 
humored  his  little  whimsicalities,  and 
gave  him  his  own  way. 

But  it  is  difficult  for  me  to  say,  even 
now,  whether  Tdmas  Dubh  was  born  to 
be  a  story-teller  or  a  sportsman.  He  in- 
variably hit  his  mark  in  both.  If  poach- 
ers— but  in  particular  the  Red  Poocher — 
had  been  the  bane  of  Tdmas'  life,  they  at 
least  gave  him  inexhaustible  matter  for 
fresh  and  racy  and  ofttimes  startling 

yarns. 

103 


THE  RED  POOCHER 

And  Tdmas  seemed  to  have  begotten 
for  the  Red  Poocher  that  homage  which 
genius  alone  commands. 

"  Tdmas  Dubh,"  said  I,  "  that  was  the 
last,  then,  of  the  Red  Poocher?"  We 
were  lolling  and  smoking  on  opposite 
corners  of  the  hearth  fire  in  Tdmas'  little 
hut  after  a  long  and  fatiguing  but  good 
— remarkably  good — day's  sport;  and 
likewise  after  a  long  and  good — remark- 
ably good — supper.  Tdmas,  by  way  of 
reply,  simply  gave  utterance  to  that  pecu- 
liar grunt  an  indolent  man  uses  to  con- 
vey "  I  have  heard  you."  And  out  of 
Tdmas'  impassive  features  I  could  not 
read  anything  eminently  satisfactory. 

"You  don't  mean  to  say  you  heard 
anything  more  of  him?"  I  hazarded. 

Tdmas  slowly  lowered  his  gaze  (which 
had  been  following  his  smoke  wreaths), 
and  halted,  his  eyes  upon  me. 

I  winced. 

104 


MISTHER  O'MARA 

Tdmas  Dubh  lay  back  once  more,  and 
contemplated  the  curling  puffs  which  he 
now  sent  up  more  thickly  from  his  age- 
browned  dudeen. 

I  lay  back,  and  puffed  as  smartly,  and 
contemplated,  too. 

Suddenly,  out  of  the  smoky  silence, 
Tdmas,  when  the  spirit  moved  him, 
spoke. 

"  To  me  bitther  sorra,  I  heard  of  the 
Red  Poocher  again.  The  curse  o'  Crum- 
mil  be  on  him— an1  the  curse  o'  the  crows. 

"  Afther  Misther  McCran  himself  had 
been  taken  in  an'  so  cru'lly  misused,  there 
was  a  great  cry-out  entirely  all  over  the 
counthry.  The  jintlemen  sportsmen 
there  was  no  houdin'  or  tyin'  of,  to  iarn 
that  such  a  vagabone  was  allowed  at 
large  and  laughin'  in  his  sleeve  at  them, 
at  the  polis,  an'  at  the  law  of  the  Ian'; 
an'  the  papers,  too,  all  over  the  three 

Kingdoms  took  it  up  an'  made  the  divil's 
105 


THE  RED   POOCHER 

own  thiraw  about  it — an'  run  over  again 
the  oul'  story  of  Irelan'  bein'  the  quare 
place  anyhow,  an*  that  nobody  should  be 
astonished  at  anything  would  happen  in 
it.  To  be  sure  there  was  many's  an  ill- 
minded  vagabone  in  all  parts  of  the  coun- 
thry  that  laughed  hearty  at  the  tarrible 
thing,  an'  sayed  the  Red  Poocher  was,  by 
a  lang  chalk,  the  dhrollest  lad  they'd  ever 
heerd  tell  of. 

"  But  anyhow,  the  noise  was  made  over 
the  counthry  about  didn't  help  Misther 
McCran  wan  little  bit  only  what  it  hin- 
dhered  him.  For  whatsomiver  chance 
there  was  of  his  gettin'  the  shootin'  of 
Meenavalla  let  to  some  sportin'  chap  or 
other  afore,  there  was  sorra  take  the 
chance  at  all  now.  So  nixt  year  it  went 
vacant,  an'  nixt  year  again,  an'  the  year 
afther  that.  Ivery  wan  of  the  years  Mis- 
ther McCran  advartised  the  shootin'  in 

the  papers  on  the  lame  chance  of  catchin' 
1 06 


MISTHER  O'MARA 

some  poor  divil  that  didn't  know  its  his- 
thory.  But  farior!  there  wasn't  a  half- 
intelligent  jack-day  atvveen  the  four  says 
of  Irelan' — or  of  Englan'  an'  Scotlan'  for 
that  part — that  didn't  know  as  much 
about  Meenavalla  an'  the  Red  Poocher 
as  Misther  McCran  himself.  So  the 
dickens  as  much  as  a  tent  of  ink  was 
wasted  replyin'  to  wan  of  the  advartise- 
ments.  Then  Misther  McCran  put  the 
consarn  up  for  sale,  an'  put  it  in  the 
papers.  But  the  divil  recaive  the  man 
there  was  even  then  to  come  forrid  an' 
offer  him  as  much  as  tuppence-ha'panny 
in  bad  ha'pence  for  it.  An'  even  when, 
on  the  fourth  year,  a  company  of  half  a 
dozen  young  English  bucks,  just  fresh 
out  of  College,  tuk,  atween  them,  a  whole 
dhrift  of  shootin's  in  vaarus  parts  of  the 
county  of  Donegal,  intendin'  both  to 
have  the  sport  of  shootin'  the  game  an' 

the  profit  besides  of  sellin'  them  to  Lon- 
107 


THE  RED   POOCHER 

don  game-marchants,  an'  tuk  the  three 
shootin's  that  surrounded  Meenavalla,  the 
sorra  wan  of  them  would  take  Meena- 
valla for  love  or  money.  It  was  un- 
lucky, they  sayed,  they'd  have  noth- 
ing whatsomiver  to  do  with  it  on  any 
account. 

"  But  behould  ye,  Misther  McCran,  to 
his  exceedin'  great  joy,  as  you  may  well 
suppose,  got  Meenavalla  let  this  year. 
On  wan  of  his  thrips  to  Glasgow  which 
he  used  to  take  the  first  Sathurday  night 
of  every  month,  he  fell  in  and  made  ac- 
quaintance with  a  County  Meath  egg 
merchant,  be  name  Misther  O'Mara,  an' 
findin'out  in  the  coorseof  their  discourse 
that  Misther  O'Mara  had  been  intendin' 
to  hire  a  small  shootin'  for  himself  be 
way  of  divarsion  an'  holidays,  Misther 
McCran  toul'  him  he  was  delighted  to 
know  it,  he  had  the  very  thing  to  suit 

him,  an',  as  Misther  O'Mara  was  a  daicent 
108 


MISTHER  O'MARA 

friendly  man,  he'd  let  him  have  his  place, 
be  name  Meenavalla,  in  the  County  Don- 
egal, on  very  moderate  terms  indeed. 
He  sung  its  praises  to  the  skies — but 
give  divil  a  whisper  of  the  Red  Poocher. 
An'  as  good  luck  would  have  it  the  poor 
County  Maith  egg  marchant  didn't  know 
a  thing  at  all  about  the  red  rascal,  Mis- 
ther  McCran  (who  agreed  with  his  friends 
in  considherin'  himself  a  purty  cliver 
cute  business  man)  didn't  laive  Misther 
O'Mara  till  he  pursuaded  him  intil  hirin' 
Meenavalla  for  the  saison — an'  at  a  longer 
price,  too,  nor  ever  it  had  been  let  for  in 
its  best  days,  afore  the  bad  name  got  out 
on  it. 

"  Misther  McCran  as  ye  may  well  sup- 
pose, was  purty  plaised  with  himself,  over 
how  he  had  hooked  the  poor  divil 
O'Mara,  who  mightn't  know  a  grouse— if 
he  saw  wan — from  a  geeraffe. 

"Me  and  Misther  McCran  hadn't  been 
109 


THE  RED  POOCHER 

on  the  very  best  of  terms  for  lee  an'  long, 
but  as  soon  as  he  let  the  shootin'  till 
O'Mara,  he  writ  me  a  letther  wantin'  to 
know  if  I  would  take  over  the  gamekeep- 
in'  ov  Meenavalla  wanst  more.  He  done 
me  wrong,  he  confessed — for  since  the 
Red  Poocher  had  been  too  able  for  him- 
self 'twas  small  wondher  he  was  too  able 
for  me.  He  pitched  upon  me  now,  as 
bain'  the  man  who  was  ablest  to  meet 
an'  watch  the  rascal  if  he  dar'd  make  at- 
temps  on  the  Ian'  again.  For,  ye  must 
undherstan',  if  the  red  fella  hadn't  throu- 
bled  Meenavalla  or  its  naighbourhood  for 
three  years  or  so,  he  wasn't  idle  elsewhere ; 
the  sorra  a  saison  went  by  that  there 
wasn't  that  there  didn't  come  some  new 
story,  or  a  bunch  of  stories,  from  some 
unlucky  corner  or  other,  about  him.  An' 
Meenavalla  besides,  not  bein  let  an'  so 
not  well  watched,  was  pooched  and  dou- 

ble-pooched  every  year  of  them  be  some 
no 


MISTHER  O'MARA 

poocher  or  other,  an'  it  might  as  well  as 
not  have  been  by  the  lad  himself.  Any- 
how, Misther  McCran  sayed  we  wor  goin* 
to  put  our  best  foot  forrid  this  saison,  an' 
win  back  for  Meenavalla  its  good  name 
an'  fame,  an*  make  it  of  some  valuey  to 
its  owners;  he'd  come  himself,  he  sayed, 
to  identify  Misther  O'Mara,  so  there 
couldn't  be  no  mistake,  an'  to  give  me 
dirachions  an'  advice,  an'  likewise  talk 
to  the  polis  an'  get  them  to  keep  purticu- 
lar  watch  upon  Meenavalla.  I  wasn't  on 
no  account  to  breathe  a  syllable  about 
Red  Poochers,  or  poochin',  to  O'Mara, 
laist  we'd  frighten  the  life  out  of  the 
poor  divil,  an'  have  his  heels  takin'  near- 
cuts  for  the  County  Maith  an'  his  little 
egg- store  again. 

"  Misther  McCran  made  offer  of  very 
fine  terms  entirely  to  me,  so  I  threw  up 
a  job  I  had,  workin'  a  hoss  an'  cart  for 

Owen  Melly  of  Scullogue  (son  to  oul* 
in 


THE  RED  POOCHER 

own — marcy  on  him !)  an'  come  an'  tuk 
charge  of  Meenavalla. 

"  That  was  early  in  July.  On  the 
Twel'th  of  August,  to  the  hour,  Misther 
McCran  an'  Misther  O'Mara  with  him, 
both  of  them  havin'  joined  together  at 
the  Strabane  Junction,  was  dhriven  up 
till  the  doore  on  Paddy  Boyle's  car,  of 
Glenties,  an'  I  give  them  cead  mille 
failte^  both.  Misther  McCran  stopped 
all  that  day,  an'  over-night ;  an'  we  walked 
O'Mara  roun'  a  part  of  the  shootin'  an' 
from  the  top  of  the  hill  give  him  a  look 
at  most  of  it.  Thrue,  he  didn't  know 
much  about  grouse  or  game  fowls — but 
he  wouldn't  be  tired  boastin'  about  the 
daith  an'  desthruction  he  often  wrought 
among  the  crows  an'  pigeons.  I  prom- 
ised, if  he  could  only  manage  to  look  level 
along  the  barrel  of  a  gun,  I'd  mighty  soon 
initiate  him  intil  the  mystheries  of  grouse- 

killin',  an'  he'd  think  crows  an'  pigeons 
112 


MISTHER  O'MARA 

purtiklerly  silly  child's  play  afther.  '  Red 
Poocher'  niver  crossed  wan  of  our  lips 
while  we  wor  in  his  hearin'.  But  Misther 
McCran,  afore  he  left,  went  intil  the  polis 
barracks  in  Ardhara,  an'  read  them  a 
lecthur  about  the  Red  Fella,  an'  let  them 
know  he'd  hould  them  responsible  if  they 
let  that  highway  robber  an'  cutthroat 
come  slouchin'  aroun'  his  Ian'  wanst 
more.  The  sergeant  of  polis  promised 
that  a  bee  wouldn't  buzz  in  all  Meena- 
valla  that  saison  but  there  wouldn't  be  a 
polisman  at  its  lug  makin'  a  note  of  it. 
Misther  McCran  laid  on  me  as  many 
diractions  as  would  make  a  dixonary — 
an'  then  he  went  off  contented. 

"  I  was  plottin'  in  me  own  mind  how 
I'd  keep  Misther  O'Mara  from  hearin' 
tell  of  the  Red  Poocher,  an'  a  purty  tickle- 
some  parable  it  was — bekase  eviry  man 
an'  his  mother,  standin'  within  twinty 

mile  of  ground  had  Meenavalla  an'  the 
8  113 


THE  RED  POOCHER 

Red  Poocher  coupled  together  on  the  tip 
of  their  tongue.  But  a  might  well  'a' 
saved  meself  the  throuble,  for  behould 
ye !  the  very  second  mornin'  he  was  there 
young  Edward  Mughan's  son  Jimmy, 
who  had  been  at  the  Office  lookin'  for  an 
Ameriky  letter  from  Francie  (God  bliss 
the  boy  an'  prosper  him !)  brought  back 
a  letther  addhressed  to  'Misther  O'Mara 
of  Maith,  now  shootin'  at  Meenavalla.' 
An*  when  he  opened  it,  I  seen  that  he 
read  it  no  less  nor  four  times  over,  an' 
afther  the  fourth  readin'  calls  upon  me, 
an'  says  he:  'Can  ye  read?'  'I  can,' 
says  I,  'if  its  prent  or  nice  writinV  'It's 
nicer  writin'  nor  it's  readin','  says  he,  'so 
far  as  I  can  undherstan'  it.  What  does 
it  mane  ? '  I  tuk  the  letther  out  of  his 
han'  an'  read:  'Dear  Misther  O'Mara  of 
Maith.  I  am  told  there's  fine  shootin'  to 
be  got  on  Meenavalla  this  saison.  I'm 

comin'  along  as  soon  as  I  finish  a  big 
114 


MISTHER  O'MARA 

Englishman's  (bad  luck  till  him !)  that 
I'm  doin'  now.  Yours,  thruly,  The  Red 
Poocher,'  or  words  to  that  effect.  Feth, 
it  tuk  more  nor  a  hop  out  of  me.  This 
Red  Poocher  was  the  coolest  scoundhril 
I  ever  calculated  upon.  The  cat,  too, 
was  out  of  the  bag  at  a  jump.  There 
wasn't  anything  for  it  but  make  a  clane 
breast  of  the  whole  matther.  An'  I  up 
an'  done  it.  An'  when  I  say  that  Misther 
O'Mara  of  Maith  stormed  an'  swore  at 
both  me  masther  an'  meself,  I'm  puttin' 
the  case  as  calm  as  I  can.  There  wasn't 
a  bad  name  in  his  stomach  that  he  didn't 
bang  at  both  of  us,  an'  sayed  that  as  the 
divil  made  us  he  matched  us.  I  knew 
we  were  both  in  the  wrong,  I  as  well  as 
the  masther,  for  not  layin'  a  full  program 
of  the  whole  case  afore  him  earlier  in  the 
business ;  so  I  sat  down  an'  smoked  till 
O'Mara's  win'  gave  out,  an'  he  could 
barge  an'  abuse  no  longer.  An'  then  he 


THE  RED  POOCHER 

ordhered  out  wan  of  his  men — he  had 
two  men  with  him — an'  a  thrap,  an'  tuk 
me  also,  an'  niver  dhrew  rein  till  he  was 
at  the  Ardhara  polis  barracks.  We  went 
in,  an'  he  put  the  letther  intil  the  ser- 
geant of  polis's  hands,  an'  demanded 
their  purtection.  The  Sergeant  read  it, 
an'  sayed  it  was  deuced  cool  of  the  red  vil- 
lain surely.  But  he  toul '  Misther  O'Mara 
all  the  arrangements  he  had  made  for 
police  pathrols  to  watch  Meenavalla  night 
an'  day,  an'  he  sayed  if,  from  wan  end  of 
the  shootin'  to  the  other  a  frog  jumped 
unknownst,  he'd  be  willin'  to  offer  him 
his  head  on  a  side  dish.  But,  tho 
the  Sergeant's  arrangements  was  good 
an'  very  good  an'  wouldn't  let  a  snipe 
sneak  about  on  the  sly,  they  weren't  half 
good  enough  to  plaise  Misther  O'Mara, 
who  went  so  far  as  to  demand  that  even 
two  polismen  should  for  the  nixt  ten  days 

live  at  the  Meenavalla  house.    An'  to 
116 


MISTHER  O'MARA 

plaise  him,  the  Sergeant  even  give  in  to 
this. 

"  From  there  he  dhriv  off,  an'  away  to 
pay  his  respects  to,  an'  have  the  counsel 
an'  advice  of  the  young  English  bucks 
who  had  taken  the  neighborin'  shootin's. 
An',  upon  me  davy,  he  sthrikes  the  six 
lads  of  them  all  congregated  in  the  house 
on  the  Carkir  shootin',  ivery  wan  of  them 
with  a  billy-ducks  from  the  Red  Poocher 
in  his  fist — same  as  Misther  O'Mara  had 
got !  But  the  English  college  chaps  were 
enjoyin'  the  thing  rather.  They  sayed 
they  wanted  a  good  Irish  adventure,  an' 
this  looked  purty  like  the  commence- 
ment of  wan.  They  only  wished  to 
Heaven  the  Red  Poocher  would  be  as 
good  as  his  word,  an'  come  along,  till 
they'd  put  a  slug  or  two  in  his  tail  to 
ballast  him.  They'd  give  half  their 
grouse,  they  said,  for  the  excitement,  an' 

they  prayed  God  the  Red  Villain  might 
117 


THE   RED   POOCHER 

turn  up.  An'  when  they  foun'  the  state 
of  flusthrification  O'Mara  was  in,  an'  the 
elaborate  arrangements  he'd  been  makin' 
with  the  polis  for  purtection,  they  did 
laugh  their  hearty  skinful,  I  tell  you. 
O'Mara  he  wasn't  more  nor  half-plaised 
that  they'd  make  so  light  of  the  thing, 
an'  of  him.  'Time  enough  till  hallo, 
boys,  when  yez  is  out  of  the  wood,'  he 
says.  'An'  them  laughs  last,  laughs 
best.'  All  which  set  the  English  lads  off 
in  fresh  kinks.  An'  when  they  1'arnt 
from  Misther  O'Mara  that  he  was  an 
egg-merchant  from  the  County  Maith, 
an'  that  he  had  big  practice  shootin'  crows 
an'  pigeons,  they  went  outside  the  house 
in  reliefs  to  aise  themselves  of  all  the 
laughter  was  weightin'  their  stomachs, 
an'  which  they  didn't  want  to  laugh  out 
intil  his  face. 

"Well, O'Mara, he  wished  to  the  Lord 

he  was  safely  through  with  his  shootin', 
118 


MISTHER  O'MARA 

anyhow — an'  he  didn't  care  how  soon 
he'd  be  finished,  now  that  the  dhread  of 
that  Poocher  was  hangin'  like  a  rotten 
roof-tree  over  him. 

"Til  tell  you,  oul' fella,  says  they  at 
last,  'if  ye  don't  mind  we'll  give  ye  a  few 
days,  an' lower  every  wing  on  the  Ian'  for 
ye.'  Faith,  O' Mara  jumped  at  it.  'Upon 
my  word,'  siz  he,  Til  not  aisily  forget  it 
if  ye  do.'  It  was  only  an  exthra  bit  of 
sport,  come  chape,  to  them,  an'  they 
agreed,  with  a  heart  an'  a  half — an'  toul' 
him,  moreover,  that  he  could  aftherwards, 
if  he  choose,  come  an'  amuse  himself  get- 
tin'  in  the  way  of  their  guns,  on  their 
shootin's,  though  they  couldn't  promise 
him  neither  pigeons  nor  crows,  they  wor 
afeerd.  O'Mara  himself  joined  them  in 
the  laugh  at  this,  for  he  was  in  purty 
good  humor  now  he  seen  he'd  have  but 
little  to  dhread  from  the  Red  Poocher. 

"  Still  he  didn't  slacken  wan  bit  in  his 
119 


THE  RED   POOCHER 

watchfulness.  He  arranged  with  the  po 
lis,  that,  every  day  the  English  lads  'ud 
be  helpin'  him  on  Meenavalla,  they'd  have 
to  do  their  pathrolin'  upon  the  lands  of 
the  College  chaps,  lest  the  Red  Poocher 
would  step  in,  on  the  grand  opportunity, 
an'  not  laive  a  kickin'  thing  upon  their 
grounds.  But  in  all  cases  he  ordhered, 
as  afore,  that  two  polis  should  stay  day 
an'  night  by  his  own  place,  an'  ait  an' 
dhrink  in  his  own  house. 

"  He  likewise  planned  that  me  an'  his 
own  two  men  should  take  the  hampers 
of  fowl  nightly  intil  Glenties,  to  the  Rail- 
way Station,  an'  have  them  shipped. 
He'd  lend  me  an'  his  men,  an'  his  con- 
veyance, also  to  the  English  chaps  to 
carry  in  theirs,  further  on ;  an'  they  could, 
for  safety's  sake,  add  one  or  two  of  their 
men  to  the  contingent.  'From  all  the 
stories,'  sez  he,  'I'm  tould  of  the  Red 

Poocher,    we    can't    be    too    cautious.' 
1 20 


MISTHER  O'MARA 

'  Faith,  yer  right,' says  the  College  chaps, 
winkin'  the  wan  at  the  other. 

"  The  very  nixt  mornin'  the  whole  six 
of  them,  with  three  of  their  men,  an' 
O'Mara  an'  wan  of  his  men,  an'  meself, 
was  on  Meena valla,  bangin'  away  like  a 
rajiment  of  Jarmins  in  the  war.  They 
wor  all  purty  fair  shots,  the  College 
chaps ;  an'  Misther  O'Mara  himself,  seein' 
that  he  was  only  used  at  tumblin'  pigeons 
an'  crows,  didn't  do  at  all  so  badly,  an' 
give  the  bucks  a  deal  less  laughin'  than 
they  expected ;  an'  odd  time  he  conthrived 
to  get  wan  of  the  lads  right  in  the  line  of 
his  fire,  which  always  give  five  of  them  a 
hearty  laugh  of  course;  but  generally  he 
went  wan  betther  nor  the  man  who  could 
fire  at  a  mouse  an'  hit  a  mountain. 

"  Af ther  the  dozen  of  us  were  on  the 
Ian'  three  days  ye  might  catch  all  the 
grouse  we  left  livin'  by  puttin'  salt  on 

their  tails.     Every  evenin',  too,  meself 
121 


THE  RED   POOCHER 

an'  the  rest  of  the  escort  tuk  off  the  day's 
baggin',  for  the  Glenties  railway  station. 
An'  its  meself  was  noways  sorry  to  go 
the  same  journey,  bekase  Dan  (wan  of 
O'Mara's  men)  was  the  best  sowl  in  the 
wurrl',  an'  niver  let  us  pass  Jimmy  Kinny's 
public  house  without  we'd  go  in  an'  wet 
our  whistle.  An'  he'd  give  us  two  or 
three  dhrinks,  no  less,  afore  he'd  let  us 
out.  O'Mara's  other  man,  Tarance,  was 
a  grumpy,  growl  in',  good-for-nothin'  dog- 
in-the-manger  kind  of  a  divil  that  wouldn't 
ax  ye  had  ye  a  mouth  on  ye  if  ye  thrav- 
elled  with  him  from  Cork  to  Christmas, 
an'  begrudged  seein'  Dan  thraitin',  more- 
over. He'd  not  go  intil  Jimmy  Kinny's 
with  us,  whether  we  stayed  a  minute  or 
an  hour,  but  'ud  remain  danglin'  his  heels 
over  the  baskets  of  game,  an'  countin' 
the  stars  to  keep  himself  warm  till  we's 
come  out  again.  An'  then  Dan  tuk  us 
in  to  see  if  Jimmy  Kinny  was  still  alive 

122 


MISTHER  O'MARA 

on  our  way  back.  Them  was  pleasant 
evenings,  I  tell  you. 

"An'  for  ten  days  this  kind  of  thing 
went  on.  Bekase,  O'Mara  tuk  meself 
an'  his  own  two  men  to  help  to  weed  the 
game  out  of  the  three  shootin's  of  the 
College  chaps.  An'  we  had  always  wan 
or  two,  or  may  be  three  of  their  men  with 
us  be  way  of  escort  to  Glenties  every 
evenin',  an'  Dan,  who  must  have  laid 
han's  on  a  leprechaun,  he  had  so  much 
money,  ever  an'  always  halted  the  funeral 
at  Jimmy  Kinny's  till  we'd  go  in  an'  sloke 
our  thirsts. 

"O'Mara,  when  he  had  four  or  five 
days'  practice,  come  to  handle  a  gun  like 
a  man  was  intended  to  become  a  good 
shooter;  an'  there  was  no  more  talkin' 
of  pigeons  an'  crows,  for  he  run  the 
English  lads  purty  close.  What  the 
lads  used  to  enjoy,  tho,  was,  that  wanst 

O'Mara  got  his  own  Ian'  shot  an'  the 
123 


THE  RED  POOCHER 

game  gone  safely  off,  he  quickly  lost  all 
terror  of  the  Red  Poocher,  an'  hadn't  the 
ghost  of  another  curse  left  in  his  liver  for 
that  scoundhril.  It  didn't  seem  to  give 
him  wan  bit  of  consarn  whether  the  red 
fella  'ud  come  in  an 'carry  off  every  wing 
on  his  neighbor's  lan's,  or  not — an'  so 
they  upcasted  till  him,  bantherin'.  'Och 
well,'  he'd  say,  'it's  each  man  cry  when 
his  own  cow's  sick.'  But  for  that  part 
the  sorra  much  consarn  did  the  Red 
Poocher  give  any  of  the  lads,  especially 
when  they  seen  he  didn't  turn  up  durin' 
the  first  four  or  five  days.  An'  they  were 
more  nor  half  sorry  he  didn't,  an'  give 
O'Mara  a  good  round  mouthful  or  two 
of  curses  for  bein'  so  deuced  purtikler, 
with  his  polis  pathrols  an'  polis  guards. 
An'  there  was  small  doubt  but  it  was 
this  kept  the  rascal  off.  Many's  the  bit 
of  a  debate  they  all  had  about  how  the 

Red   Poocher  would  'a'  been  likely  to 
124 


MISTHER  O'MARA 

have  gone  to  work,  if  he  had  ventured  on 
the  Ian',  an'  how  they'd  have  nonplussed 
him  an'  got  hold  of  him,  an'  the  way 
they'd  have  larked  him,  an'  played  him 
like  a  cat  might  a  mouse,  afore  marchin' 
him  into  Ardhara  polis  barracks  with  a 
yard  of  rope  decoratin'  his  neck.  They 
would  have  had  the  dickens's  own  gay 
time  with  the  buck,  there  was  no  manner 
of  doubt,  if  he'd  only  been  foolhardy 
enough  to  let  his  shadow  fall  on  a  daisy 
on  wan  of  their  lands.  But  they  wor  all 
agreed — an'  Misther  O'Mara  with  them 
— that  the  red  rascal  had  method  in  his 
madness,  an'  if  he  was  within  a  big  radius 
of  them  he  had  tuk  purtikler  good  care 
to  lie  very  low  an'  sing  very,  very 
small. 

"  Well,  on  the  last  night  of  the  shootin' 

we  had  a  regular  big  jollification,  all  hands 

of  us,  I  tell  ye.    An',  poor  divil,  the  Red 

Poocher  would  have  found  his  ears  burn- 

125 


THE  RED   POOCHER 

in'  if  he  had  been  within  any  sort  of  rais- 
enable  distance  of  us — bekase,  there's  no 
doubt  of  it,  we  joked  a  fair  share  at  his 
expense.  An'  small  blame  to  us,  seem' 
he  made  such  an  impudently  bould  start 
writin'  his  threatenin'  notices  to  all  hands, 
as  if  he  was  goin'  to  do  the  dickens-an'- 
all,  an'  walk  right  over  all  of  our  heads. 
Far  intil  the  night — or  intil  the  mornin' 
— the  spree  run;  an' — I'  half-ashamed  to 
tell  it,  but  the  thruth's  the  thruth — every 
man  lay  where  he  fell.  The  English 
chaps  knew  how  to  get  round  a  quart 
of  Irish  whisky  about  as  well  as  if 
they  had  been  broken  to  it  when  they 
were  on  suckin'  bottles,  but  they  give 
in.  An*  when  I  give  in  meself,  Misther 
O'Mara,  an'  Dan,  an'  Tarance  seemed 
as  fresh  as  a  May  mornin',  bad  luck  till 
them. 

"  The  sun  was  purty  high  in  the  sky, 

nixt  day,  when  we  shouted  an'  shuk  up. 
126 


MISTHER  O'MARA 

An'  when  we  got  our  eyes  opened,  an' 
some  of  our  senses  back  again,  behould 
ye,  wasn't  it  the  sergeant  himself  of  polis 
an'  a  band  of  his  men  was  standin'  over 
us.  "Well,  what's  the  row,  now? 'says 
we,  when  we  seen  this  army  crowdin'  the 
kitchen.  'Nothin','  says  the  sergeant 
himself  of  the  polis,  with  a  heavy  sigh, 

'only  the  Red  Poocher,  be  d to  him ! ' 

'What? 'says  wan  of  us;  an'  'What?' 
says  all  of  us,  jumpin'  for  our  firearms. 
'The  Red  Poocher!  Hurroo!  show  us 
him,  sergeant,  avic,  till  we  get  the  chance 
of  a  puck  at  the  hinder-end  of  his 
breeches  ' — an'  ivery  mother's  sowl  bruk 
for  the  doore.  '  Arrah,'  says  the  sergeant, 
'to  pot  with  yez  for  blatherin'  edicts. 
Stand  yer  grounds  till  I  ax  ye  wan  ques- 
tion— Has  any  of  yez  got  any  returns  or 
replies  from  the  game  yez  has  sent  off? ' 
No,  none  of  them  had.  For  the  past 

three  or  four  days  they  had  sent  a  mes- 
127 


THE  RED  POOCHER 

senger  to  the  office,  an'  then  damned  the 
London  man  for  not  bein'  prompter  in 
replyin',  an'  sendin'  cheques.  '  I  thought 
as  much,' sez  the  sergeant.  'What  the 
dickens  do  ye  mane? '  says  they.  "Are 
all  of  yez  here? '  sez  the  sargeant.  'All 
of  us? '  says  they,  lookin'  roun',  an'  thry- 
in'  to  count  wan  another — 'Barrin','  says 
they,  then,  'Misther  O'Mara,  an'  his  two 
men.  They  must  have  been  afoot  earlier, 
an'  sthrolled  back  to  Meenavalla.'  '  Oh, 
indeed! '  says  the  sergeant — 'yes,  indeed. 
I  was  just  thinkin'  they  tuk  a  rather  early 
sthroll  this  mornin'.  There  was  a  little 
note  from  him,  informin'  me  as  much, 
dhropped  at  the  barrack  doore,  this  morn- 
in', an'  advisin'  me  to  come  an'  look  af  ther 
yez,  or  yez  would  be  apt  to  over-sleep 
yerselves,  an'  miss  the  early  worm.  I 
called  by  Meenavalla  house  just  to  satisfy 
meself,  an'  it's  as  lone  as  an  anshint 

Abbey.     Here's  a  note  I  picked  up  on 
128 


MISTHER  O'MARA 

the  table  here  when  I  come  in — I'm 
thinkin'  that's  the  names  of  the  six  of 
yez  on  the  cover  of  it.  Purty  well-ad- 
dhressed,  anyhow.' 

"  With  their  mouths  open  so  ye  might 
turn  yer  fist  in  them,  an'  their  six  pairs 
of  eyes  like  bow-windies  in  a  castle,  they 
had  the  note  tore  open  in  half-a-jiffey, 
an'  ivery  man  of  the  six  let  out  of  him  a 
curse  might  kill  a  crow  in  a  crab-three — 
for  the  note  was  something  like  this: 
'Misther  O'Mara  of  Maith  presents  his 
compliments  an'  hopes  the  six  nice  bright 
cliver  young  Englishmen  is  well  as  he'd 
wish  them,  an'  as  full  of  self-consait  as 
iver.  He  is  very  sorry  he  has  been  called 
off  suddint,  for  he  should  have  liked 
much  more  of  their  improvin'  company. 
But  if  his  good  friends  wouldn't  mind 
callin'  roun'  by  his  egg-store  in  the  Coun- 
ty Maith,  on  their  way  home  to  their 

dear  mothers  in  England,  he  promises 
9  129 


THE  RED  POOCHER 

them  plenty  of  pinkin'  at  pigeons  an' 
crows.    Yours  thruly, 

'"TheRedPoocher."' 
•       •••••• 

I  said,  after  a  while,  "  May  I  ask  you 
one  question,  Tdmas  Dubh  ? " 

"  Throt  it  out  quick,  an'  be  done  with 
it/  "  between  whiffs  of  his  freshly-lit  pipe. 

"  Didn't  those  Englishmen  themselves 
tack  on  the  proper  labels  on  the  hampers 
before  they  sent  them  off? " 

"  Did  I  tell  you  that  while  Dan  was 
makin'  the  rest  of  us  merry  in  Jimmy 
Kinny's,  Tarance,  the  growler,  remained 
without  to  keep  count  of  the  stars  ? " 

"Oh!" 


130 


"  The  very  spirit  of  modern  Paris  is  pris- 
oned in  its  text." — Life,  New  York. 

HOW     PARIS 
AMUSES    ITSELF 

By  F.  Berkeley   Smith 

Author  of  "TAe  Real  Latin  Quarter" 

It  is  a  book  that  takes  you  within  the  gates  of  the 
Kingdom  of  Fun,  shows  you  all  the  bright,  ever- 
moving  panorama  of  gay  Paris,  and  makes  you  a  part 
of  the  frolicsome  throng. 

Prof.  Harry  Thurston  Peck,  in  the  New  York  Journal: 
"The  gaiety,  the  joy  of  life,  the  charm  of  Paris,  are 
all  suggested  in  this  book;  and,  next  to  being  there,  an 
hour  spent  over  these  pages  is  the  best  approximation 
to  it.  To  go  through  its  pages  is  like  whirling  along  in 
a  fiacre  through  the  boulevards,  beside  the  quays,  and 
across  the  river,  getting  the  whole  panoramic  effect  of 
the  most  wonderful  city  in  the  world." 

Philadelphia  Item:  "  If  you  wish  to  thoroughly  soak 
yourself  with  the  concentrated  essence  of  enjoyment, 
read  this  book  quickly.  It  is  too  good  to  miss." 

Baltimore  Herald:  "  Few  men  since  T hackeray  have 
succeeded  in  making  Bohemian  Paris  such  a  living 
breathing  thing." 

Philadelphia  Public  Ledger:  "  It  is  a  fascinating  book 
which  those  who  know  Paris  and  those  who  have  the 
pleasure  of  making  its  acquaintance  in  future  store  will 
alike  abundantly  enjoy." 

135  captivating  picture •:  ty  the  Author  and  several  noted  French 
artists,  includ.ng  Ca'an  z,  Sancha,  Cardona.  Sunyer.  Michael, 
Perenei,  and  otters.  12mo,  Cloth,  Handsome  Cover  Design. 
Price,  $1.50,  net,  at  all  bookstores;  by  Mail,  $1.65. 


FUNK    &   WAGNALLS    COMPANY,    PUBLISHERS, 
NEW  YORK  &  LONDON 


Charles  Dana  Gibson  says:    "It  is  like  a 
trip  to  Paris." 

THE  REAL  LATIN 
(QUARTER  OF  PARIS 

By    F.  Berkeley   Smith 

Racy  sketches  of  the  innermost  life  and  characters 
of  the  famous  Bohemia  of  Paris  —  its  grisettes,  stu- 
dents, models,  balls,  studios,  cafes,  etc. 

John  W.  Alexander:    "  It  is  the  real  thing." 

Frederick  Remington:  "You  have  left  nothing  un- 
done." 

Ernest  Thompson  Seton:  "A  true  picture  of  the  Latin 
Quarter  as  I  knew  it." 

Frederick  Dielman,  President  National  Academy  of 
Design  :  "  Makes  the  Latin  Quarter  very  real  and  still 
invests  it  with  interest  and  charm." 

Evening  Telegraph,  Philadelphia:  "A  captivating 
book." 

Boston  Times:    "A  genuine  treat." 

The  A  rgonaut,  San  Francisco :  '  'A  charming  volume. 
Mr.  Smith  does  not  fail  to  get  at  the  intimate  secrets, 
the  subtle  charm  of  the  real  Latin  Quarter  made 
famous  by  Henry  Merger  and  Du  Maurier." 

The  Mail  and  Express,  New  York :  "  When  you  have 
read  this  book  you  know  the  '  Real  Latin  Quarter '  as 
well  as  you  will  ever  come  to  know  it  without  living 
there  yourself." 

Boston  Herald:  "  It  pictures  the  Latin  Quarter  In  its 
true  light."  

Water-Color  Frontispiece  by  F.  Hopkinson  Smith.  About  100 
original  drawings  and  camera  snap  shots  bv  the  Author,  and 
two  caricatures  in  cokr  by  the  celebrated  French  caricaturist 
Sancha,  Ornamental  Covers,  12mo,  Cloth,  Price,  $1.20,  net. 
Postage,  13  Cents. 

FUNK    &   WAGNALLS   COMPANY,    PUBLISHERS, 
NEW  YORK  &  LONDON 


THE  HOUR- 

GLASS STORIES 

A  series  of  Title  books  well  calculated  to  occupy 
*n  idle  hour."  —  The  Philadelphia  Times. 

Small  1  2  mo.     Dainty  Cloth  Binding.     Illustrated. 
40  cents,  net,  each;  by  mail,  45  cents 


T     <n*a    ?**,J*lr    By  RCV-   z-  GRENELL.     A  beautiful 

•*  •   ±K>e  tanaa  is  Uttle  idyl  of  sacred  story  d.aling  wkh 

the  sandals  of  Christ. 

Louiiville  Courier-  Journal:  "  The  story  is  told  in  exquisite 
fashion  and  is  one  to  be  enjoyed." 

//.  'The  Courtship  of  Sweet  Anne  Page 

By  ELLEN  V.  TALBOT.  A  brisk  little  love  story  incidental  to 
"The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,"  full  of  fun  and  frolic  and 
telling  of  the  courtship  of  Sweet  Anne  Page  by  the  three 
rival  lovers  chosen  by  her  father,  her  mother,  and  herself, 

Waiblngton  Potts    "The  diction    has  a   true    Elizabethan 
flavor,  and  the  humor  possesses  all  the  wit  of  that  period." 

///.  'The  'Transfiguration  of  Miss  Philura 

By  FLORENCE  MORSE  K.INGSLEV.  An  entertaining  story  woven 
around  the  "  New  Thought,"  which  is  finding  expression  in 
Christian  Science,  Divine  Healing,  etc. 

Philadelphia  Daily  Evening  Telegraph  ;  "It  is  a  dainty  little 
story,  and  quite  out  of  the  common." 

IV     Thf   Hfrr    T)nrtnr    By  RoBERT  MACDONALD. 

i  r  .   ine  nerr  uocior  A  novelette  of  artistic  liter. 

ary  merit,  narrating  the  varied  experiences  of  an  American 
girl  in  her  effort  toward  capturing  a  titled  husband. 


FUNK  &  WAGNALLS  COMPANY,  Publishers 
NEW  YORK  &  LONDON 


A   NEW   NOVEL 

THE    SEARCHERS 

By  Margaretta  Byrde 
A  CRITICAL  ESTIMATE  OF  THE  STORY 

AT.  QUILLER  COUCH,  writing  in  The  Bookman  of 
.  London,  speaks  of  the  "beginner's  freshness,  spirit, 
and  earnestness  of  conviction  "  apparent  in  this  "first 
novel."  Of  Mrs.  Byrde's  handling  of  a  crucial  situation  in 
her  plot,  he  says  : 

"  She  manages  it  triumphantly  because  she  believes  in  it." 

In  character  delineation,  Mr.  Quiller  Couch  says : 

"  She  has  humor  and  seriousness,  and  each  is  a  part  of 
the  other." 

He  compares  the  new  author  to  Jane  Austen  : 

"  Her  currish  suitor,  the  Rev.  Perkyn  Voyse,  is  a  really 
delightful  specimen  of  the  egotistical  snob,  and  his  letter — 
could  more  be  said  ?  —  might  have  been  penned  by  the  immor- 
tal Mr.  Collins  of  '  Pride  and  Prejudice.'  " 

Of  another  character  he  remarks  : 

"  No  more  delightful  figure  has  been  added  for  a  long  while 
past  to  the  gallery  of  humorous  fiction  than  the  American, 
Major  Gamaliel  K.  Spring,  with  his  chivalrous  respect  for 
'  soaring  *  womanhood. '  * 

"  Into  her  serious  and  splendid  hero,"  as  Mr.  Quiller  Couch 
characterizes  the  Rev.  Hope  Godwin,  "Mrs.  Byrdchasput  "all 
her  ideas  of  what  a  man  should  be."  He  is  a  woman's  hero, 
and  yet  in  building  up  his  character,  she  has  introduced  "nothing 
effeminate,  nothing  that  a  man  should  not  wish  to  attain  to." 

Mr.  Quiller  Couch  concludes : 

"  The  book  deserves  its  high  title  of  '  The  Searchers,"  for 
it  bears  the  impress  of  a  fervent  belief  that  the  secret  of  life  is  a 
no^ile  one  and  of  a  fervent  desire  to  pursue  it.  Mrs.  Byrde 
write*  'on  the  side  of  the  angels.'  " 


I2mo,  Cloth.     452  Pages.     $1.50 
FUNK  &  WAGNALLS  COMPANY,  Publishers 

NEW  YORK  &  LONDON 


A  ROMANCE  OF  A  STRANGE  COUNTRT 


By  Mrs.  Campbell  Praed 

Author  of"Nadine";  "The  Scourge  Stick";  "  At  a  Watch 
in  the  Nigkt,"  etc. 

THIS  story  has  the  same  motif  as  Stevenson's  Dr.  Jekyll 
and  Mr.  Hyde,  and  a  weird  treatment  resembling  that 
of  Bulwer's  "  Strange  Story."  It  will  compare  favor- 
ably in  strength  and  literary  quality  with  either  of  these  great 
productions.  Isadas  Pacha,  Ambassador  at  the  Court  of  St. 
James's  from  Abdullulah  Zobeir,  Emperor  of  Abaria,  dying  at 
last  after  a  long  life  of  mixed  good  and  evil,  leaves  to  his  phy- 
sician, Dr.  Marillier,  "the  insane  root,"  a  mandragora  root, 
enclosed  in  a  small  box.  Marillier,  a  suitor  of  Rachel,  the 
beautiful  ward  of  the  Pacha,  envies  Ruel  Bey,  his  favored 
rival.  Learning  from  the  papers  left  by  the  Pacha  that  the 
mandrake  root  has  marvelous  powers,  Marillier  succeeds  in 
assuming  the  body  of  Ruel  who  has  been  accidentally  killed. 
On  this  change  of  identifies  the  fascinating  story  turns.  After 
marrying  Rachel  the  problem  of  consummating  the  marriage 
can  not  be  solved  by  Marillier,  the  wrai'h  of  the  real  Ruel 
preventing.  A  bolt  of  lightning  solves  the  problem.  There 
is  a  mystery  about  Rachel,  who  turns  out  to  be  the  Emperor's 
own  daughter.  The  scenery  is  partly  that  of  the  Algerian 
mountains,  very  graphically  and  beautifully  described.  The 
supernatural  elements  are  handled  in  a  way  to  make  them  seem 
actually  credible.  The  storm  climax  reminds  the  reader  of 
Hawthorne's  best  work  in  the  Marble  Faun. 


I2mot  Cloth.     380  Pages.     $1.50 

FUNK  &  WAGNALLS  COMPANY,  Publishers 
NEW  YORK  &  LONDON 


THE 
NEEDLE'S  EYE 

By  Florence  Morse  Kingsley 

Author  of  "TAe    Transfguration  of  Miss  Philura,"   "Titus," 
"Prisoners  of  the  Sea,"  " Stephen,"  etc. 

THE  NEEDLE'S  EYE  "  is  a  remarkable  story  of  modern 
American  life, — not  of  one  phase,  but  of  many  phases, 
widely  different  and  in  startling  contrast.  The  scenes 
alternate  between  country  and  city.  The  pure,  free  air  of  the 
hills,  and  the  foul,  stifling  atmosphere  of  the  slums  ;  the  sweet 
breath  of  the  clover  fields,  and  the  stench  of  crowded  ;ene- 
ments  are  equally  familiar  to  the  hero  in  this  novel.  Tht  other 
characters  are  found  in  vine-covered  cottages,  in  humble  farm- 
houses, in  city  palaces,  and  in  the  poorest  tenements  of  the 
slums.  Immanuel,  the  hero,  begins  life  as  a  foundling,  and  the 
chapters  telling  of  his  unhappy  infancy  and  happy  boyhood  are 
written  with  a  tenderness,  a  pathos,  and  an  intimacy  of  knowl- 
edge and  description  that  touch  the  deepest  sympathies  of  the 
reader.  Later,  Immanuel  finds  himself  the  heir  of  a  vast  for- 
tune. His  struggle  to  use  the  wealth  in  relieving  the  miseries 
of  the  slums  demonstrates  the  truth  of  the  declaration  of  Jesus  : 
"  It  is  easier  for  a  camel  to  go  through  a  needle's  eye  t  lan  for 
a  rich  man  to  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God." 

Many  of  the  situations  in  the  novel  are  exceedingly  dramatic. 
Others  sparkle  with  genuine  humor.  This  is  a  story  to  make 
people  laugh,  and  cry,  and  think. 


Illustrations  by  F.  E.  Mears.    I2mo,  Cloth.    $1.50 


FUNK  A  WAGNALLS  COMPANY,  Publishers 

NEW  YORK  &  LONDON 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONALUBRARVFACJLITY 


A     000  684  935     0 


